


The Second Set of Rules

by Mrgoodbar



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AIM - Freeform, Age Difference, Age Differnce, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Animal Abuse, Attempted Sexual Assault, BAMF!Bucky, Blood, Bucky and Natasha are brother and sister, Child Abuse, Dark!Bucky, Dark!Steve, Filet Mignon, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Goodness I have lots of tags, Hydra (Marvel), It's not underage but I'm gonna put it in there anyway because some people might think it is, Just got sad?, Killing, M/M, Mercedes Benz, Minor Character Death, Minor Character with Cancer, Moana (2016) References, Mob Boss!Natasha, Mob boss!Bucky, Murder, New York City, Oops, Past mentions of stalking, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, References to Prostitution, So keep an eye out, Tons of useless marvel characters that no one knows, Torture, Underage - Freeform, better be safe than sorry!, slurs?, sorry - Freeform, this might be sad, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2018-11-06 00:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11025156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrgoodbar/pseuds/Mrgoodbar
Summary: On his first day, he was told the rules of the cafe that he was expected to follow like, ‘the customer is always right,’ ‘make sure to wash your hands after going to the restroom,’ and ‘smile at everyone that comes in’.It was over one week after he started working there when he heard about the second set of rules for the cafe. They all revolved around two things, or he should say, two people:1. Always be professional and nice even if the customer is an ass, not including Barnes and/or Romanoff.2. Do not spend any unnecessary time with Barnes and/or Romanoff3. Do not piss off Barnes and/or Romanoff.4. Do not be alone with Barnes and/or Romanoff.5. If you find yourself alone with Barnes and/or Romanoff, do not run, just scream for help.The list went on and it just made Steve more confused about who Barnes and Romanoff were.





	1. Barnes and Romanoff

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Everyone!
> 
> So, if you happened to read [The Time Steve Shrank](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9400508/chapters/21280982), you'd know that in the notes I said that I was gonna be posting another story soon, but I'm really stuck on that one, so I wrote this one instead.
> 
> I'm really sorry about the name of the cafe. I really had no idea what to name the cafe, so if you have something better than _The Coffee Cafe_ please comment. 
> 
> Also, **Please mind the tags! In this story, Steve is seventeen when he meets Bucky, and Bucky is thirty-two. They will not have a sexual relationship until after Steve's eighteenth birthday. If you don't like big age differences, DO NOT READ THIS FIC.**
> 
> Criticism always welcome, but keep it nice. Thanks for clicking, :)

Working at _Le Cafe Du Café (The Coffee Cafe)_ wasn't particularly hard work. Serve some customers, make some coffee, clean some tables, tend the register. 

The work wasn't grueling; there was no physical aspect, besides standing all day, most of the customers were regulars, they were nice, the place always smelled like freshly brewed coffee and Steve loved it. 

Back before his mom got sick, she'd take him here when they had enough money to spare. She'd pull her last few crumpled ones from her purse and buy two pieces of the cafe's signature apple pie.

He was seven, he remembers when he first had their apple pie. 

It wasn't a particularly good day. It was April, the skies were dark and mood of the day was gloomy. Steve had been having a wonderful day. He had a test in math and got a one hundred on it. He couldn't wait to show his mom. That day though went far worse than just the weather for Steve. 

He was walking home with a skip in his step, when the neighborhood bully, what a cliche, came looking for Steve, no surprise. He was about one block from his house when he heard a voice. 

“Hey, Steve,” Joseph Manfredi said from behind Steve. He didn't feel like dealing with him today. He wouldn't let him ruin his good mood. 

“Not in the mood today, Manfredi. Why don'tcha just leave me alone today?” Steve hadn't turned around. He just kept walking, he knew if he was late he'd worry his ma. He worries her enough. 

“Mmmh, I don't know,” He said as if debating something in his head. “What if you did my math homework and I'll think about it?” 

“ ‘Mmmh, I don't know.’ ” Steve mocked in a ridiculously high-pitched voice while he began walking faster. 

Steve could practically hear the steam coming from Joseph's ears. Suddenly, Steve was spun around and slammed into the nearest building, a furious Joseph staring him right in the eye. Pain blossomed in his head and back and his breathing turned labored. 

_Not now_ , Steve thought, _P_ _lease, not an asthma attack now._

“Wanna say that again, punk?” 

Slightly disoriented, Steve replied, “ ‘Mmmh, I don't know.’ ” 

Through his barely opened eyes, Steve could see how Joseph went from fury to rage. 

_This isn’t gonna end well,_ Steve thought. 

And he was right because then, not even half a minute later, a fist connected with his left cheek and his head bounced off the brick wall. He collapsed to the ground. His head was pounding from his possible concussion and his cheek stung from the cold air. 

As best as he could, he moved onto his hands and knees. It wasn't easy, but he was stubborn and he knew he could do it. 

What seemed like hours later, Steve stood up again. He raised his fists like a boxer expecting a fight. 

“I can do this all day,” he spoke breathlessly. 

Joseph, instead of replying, just threw another punch, this one much harder than the last. He felt blood run down his cheek. 

Once again he collapsed but he was determined; he wasn't gonna give up. 

Slowly, he tried moving to his feet again. 

“You don't know when to give up, do ya?” Joseph questioned angrily. Before Steve could even think of a snarky reply, a sharp boot connected with his ribs and he crashed to the ground clutching his ribs. 

His breathing was now ten times worse. He was struggling to breathe in and he knew if he didn't calm down, he'd trigger an asthma attack. He couldn't deal with that right now. 

_ Breathe, calm down, breathe, calm down… _

“Better do double of the math homework or you're gonna get it worse.” He started to walk away from him but then stopped about ten feet away when Steve called out to him. 

“Hey, Joe,” he yelled softly. When Joseph turned around, Steve spoke again. “One of these days, I’m gonna be stronger. And you won't like me then. That's a promise.”

Joseph laughed like it was the funniest joke he had ever heard, “See you tomorrow, Steve.” Joseph still had a grin on his face when he disappeared around the corner.  

He probably stayed on the ground for over twenty minutes until he found enough strength to get up. 

While he laid down though, he thought for a moment. When he's bigger, stronger, Joseph Manfredi would be one of the first people he goes after. 

He stumbled home. There were sharp spikes of pain in his head and a throbbing sensation on his cheek. His breathing, still labored, now became extremely painful with every breath. 

He felt a wash of relief crash into him when he managed to get to his front door. Turning the doorknob, he pushed the door open and almost fell to the floor when the door swung open instead. 

His mom stood there, eyes wide as she surveyed her son. 

“Steve!” She said alarmed. “What happened?” She questioned while pulling him to the bathroom and sitting him on the edge of the small bathtub. 

Sarah Rogers was a single mother, a nurse and the nicest person you'd ever meet. That's why it came as a huge surprise to Steve when she stood in front of him and angrily said, “Who did this to you?” 

Steve sighed. “No one ma, it's not even that big of a deal,” he muttered. 

“Like heck, it isn't a big deal, Steven. You're hurt. You probably have some bruised ribs by the way you're wincing and there's a cut on your cheek,” she sighed. 

Pulling out the alcohol and a band-aid out of the cupboard, she began cleaning the cut. 

Steve winced as she applied the alcohol. When the cut was clean, Sarah put a small bandaid on it. 

She moved on to his ribs. 

“Take your shirt off,” she commanded in that voice only mothers have. 

He struggled to pull the shirt off, winced in discomfort, but managed to do it. There was a foot sized bruised right on the left side of his ribs. 

She gently ran her fingers over the bruise. 

“Yea, nothing feels broken. I'll go get some ice.” 

They moved to couch with a bag of frozen peas pressed firmly onto his ribs, and Sarah put on Steve's favorite movie; Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. 

The scenery was pretty and Snow White was gorgeous. He liked the Prince better though. He liked how much the Dwarfs cared for Snow White. Something he hated though, was how the Queen died. She didn't deserve to die. She just wanted to be the fairest. Why did they kill her? Why couldn't she be locked in the dungeon or something?

His ma always told him that that happened because a lot of people don't like the villain. She said that they killed her so she wouldn't hurt anyone else. Steve didn't understand. 

Later, after the movie ended, and supper was finished, Sarah spoke. 

“I was thinkin’. I found a small cafe downtown. I saw some pie and I was thinkin’ we could go get some. Sound good?” 

It wasn't ten minutes later that they were on their way to the cafe. 

The cafe was small but the ambiance was welcoming and there wasn't a ridiculous theme to it like most food establishments. 

A small bell above the door rang as they rushed inside the cafe where it was warm. 

The counter was wide and next to it was a display glass that showed many delicious looking desserts. There were chalkboard menus that hung overhead. The cafe was colorful but what caught Steve's eye though, was a big apple pie that sat towards the back of the display case. 

“I want the apple pie, Ma,” he whispered. 

The young lady behind the register was kind looking. She had long brown hair tied neatly in a ponytail at the back of her head. 

The line was short, only two people in front of them. The girl was fast at ordering so they didn't have to wait long.

She grinned when it was their turn to order. “How can I help you today?” She asked kindly glancing between Steve and his ma. 

“Two pieces of the delicious looking apple pie, please.” Sarah pointed to the pie. 

“For here or to go?” 

“For here, please.” 

The girl smiled and walked over to the display case and pulled out the apple pie. She grabbed a small knife and cut two reasonably sized pieces. The plates she put them on were small and white. She handed the first plate to Steve and the second to his ma. 

Sarah paid for the pies, Steve doesn't know how much. He was too focused on the pie he had in his hands. 

They headed for a booth and sat down. Steve picked up his fork and started. The crust was soft and the apple filling was flavor packed. The apples themselves were soft but not gooey. It was just the way he liked it. 

This pie is almost as good as ma’s, Steve thought. 

Steve smiled as he remembered this memory from ten years ago. He doesn't have a lot of good memories and it's nice to relive one every day.

On his first day, he was told the rules of the cafe that he was expected to follow like, _‘the customer is always right,’ ‘make sure to wash your hands after going to the restroom,’_ and _‘smile at everyone that comes in’._

It was over one week after he started working there when he heard about the second set of rules for the cafe. They all revolved around two things, or he should say, two people:

1\. Always be professional and nice even if the customer is an ass, not including Barnes and/or Romanoff.

2\. Do not spend any unnecessary time with Barnes or Romanoff

3\. Do not piss off Barnes and/or Romanoff.

4\. Do not be alone with Barnes and/or Romanoff.

5\. If you find yourself alone with Barnes and/or Romanoff, do not run, just scream for help. 

The list went on and it just made Steve more confused about who Barnes and Romanoff were. 

Temporarily forgetting about the mysterious list, Steve went back to work. 

\---

It was three days later and Steve had agreed to work on the earlier shift because the employee who usually worked that shift, a young girl named Kamala, was sick with the flu. 

It was at seven o'clock on the dot when the door chimed signaling a new customer and Steve stopped breathing momentarily. 

A tall man with long dark hair stepped through the door with a petite red headed woman following behind him. The man looked slightly older than Steve if the graying hair at the man's temples was anything to go by. The man had some stubble on his face like he hadn't shaved that morning. He was dressed nicely but not expensively. He had a dark button up on and a nice pair of dark slacks. His shoes were shiny and they looked like new. 

In Steve's opinion, he looked like Sex on legs. 

The man walked over to the counter and his eyes widen. He looked almost surprised. Steve smiled. 

“Hello. What can I get you today?” Steve asked pleasantly. The man stared for a moment, eyes roaming his face before replying. 

“How about your phone number?” The man said smoothly in a deep husky voice that made Steve shiver. 

“Umm- I- uh-” Steve stuttered, blushed and looked away. He _never_ had anyone come onto him before. Steve looked back at the man to find him smirking.

Before Steve could ask for his order, the small red head that had come in with the man, cut in. 

“Two large black coffees to go, thanks,” she said sternly but not unkindly. 

Turning to the coffee machine, he quickly brewed two black coffees and put them in the large to go cups. The moved back to the counter and placed them in front of the man and woman. 

“Here you go. That'll be-” before he could finish the woman had slapped a five dollar bill on the counter and turned to leave, while muttering something like, _‘keep the change.’_ “- four fifty,” he finished lamely. 

He shook his head and grabbed the money. After putting it in the register, he felt like he was being watched and turned and saw the man from before still leaning on the counter. His head rested on his left hand that was curled into a fist under his chin. 

“You must be new,” the man said. 

Steve grinned. “How'd you guess?” 

“Well, most of the staff don't really smile at us.” 

_That's weird,_ Steve thought. 

“Oh. Why’s that?” 

The man just smirked like he had a secret, grabbed his coffee and left. 

_ Well, that was weird.  _

He turned back around to refill the coffee cups when he noticed two of the other employees, America Chavez and Amadeus Cho, staring at him in horror. 

“What?” He asked annoyed. 

“You just served _Barnes_ and _Romanoff_ and you didn't die,” America whispered. 

“Huh? They were _Barnes_ and _Romanoff_?” He asked in disbelief. Those two couldn't be the ones that the cafe had a second set of _rules_ about… Could they?

The nodded in unison. 

“Why is everyone here so afraid of them? They didn't seem that bad. He kinda seemed nice.” 

“BARNES ISN'T NICE!” They screamed together which caused some of the patrons to turn their way. 

“Well, maybe you guys aren't nice to him so he isn't nice to you. He said no one here ever smiles at them,” He relayed while wiping the counter down. 

“Because they're murderers!” Amadeus whisper-yelled vehemently. 

Steve sputtered. “ _What_?” He asked incredulously. “Do you have any proof of that ridiculous claim?” 

It was Amadeus’ turn to sputter. “Well, no. But they seem like they would be,” he said confidently.  

“Well, how about you both stop making assumptions about people?” 

Glancing at the clock, he noticed his shift was nearly over. He left to go retrieve his things from his little locker. 

When he was gone, America and Amadeus turned to each other in horror. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” America said grimly.  

“Me too,” Amadeus whispered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who didn't catch it, or I guess, Don't know it: Joseph Manfredi= [Blackwing](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Joseph_Manfredi_\(Earth-616\)), Kamala Khan= [Ms. Marvel](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Kamala_Khan_\(Earth-616\)), America Chavez= [Ms. America](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/America_Chavez_\(Utopian_Parallel\)), Amadeus Cho= [Mastermind Excello](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Amadeus_Cho_\(Earth-616\)).
> 
> Comments convince me to write more!! :)


	2. Nice To Meet You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Dammit. 
> 
> **I was wrong I guess. There is a smut scene and I said in the first chapter that Steve and Bucky wouldn't have a sexual relationship until after Steve's birthday, but Steve has a wet dream, and I'm not really sure if it counts... I don't know. I'd just like to say in advance that I'm ace so I'm sorry if the smut is bad.**
> 
> **If you'd like to skip the smut, it begins at _"Steve was walking home from the cafe when he had the strange sense he was being watched."_ and ends at _"This is not good, he thought as he sat up in bed surveying the mess in his lap."_**
> 
> **After this chapter, It will start progressively getting darker. I have already written chapter three and it's like falling into a darkness whole.**
> 
> I'm sorry.

For the past few weeks, Steve sees Barnes almost daily. Steve works from three to seven, five days a week and Barnes comes in nearly every time he works at around four thirty on the dot and orders the same thing. 

It was four days after Steve first saw Barnes, that he learned more about the man. He had been wiping down a table near the door when the bell had rung, a gust of wind blew in and Barnes walked into the cafe like he owned it. 

He was alone this time, no red-headed girlfriend in sight. Barnes was dressed considerably better than the first day they met though. This time, instead of a button up and slacks, Barnes was wearing a black tux that looked fitted. His long dark hair was pulled into a small bun( Steve refused to call it a man bun.) at the back of his head. In the time that Steve had last seen him, Barnes had shaved leaving a razor sharp jaw that looked like he could cut his finger on it if he were to touch Barnes’ jaw. 

Steve gulped. _Breathe,_ he thought. 

“Hi, what's your order?” He remembered the fiasco last time and refused to say, ‘What can I get you?’ in front of Barnes. 

“Oh… I was thinkin’ one order of you.” Barnes grinned sharply. 

His body said, _‘Hi, I'm friendly.’_ But his eyes said, _‘Let's fuck.’_

Steve gulped again and muttered, “So, one large black coffee to go?” 

Barnes laughed loudly. “Yes, Steve. One large black coffee to go.” 

Like usual, he turned around and poured black coffee into the large to go cup. Placing the lid firmly on the cup, he walked back to the front of the counter but stopped when saw Barnes watching him with the utmost interest. 

He began walking back at a slower pace. 

“Voila. One large black coffee to go,” he muttered quietly while keeping his head down. “That'll be $2.50.” 

Barnes pulled a five dollar bill from his pocket and walked away. “Keep the change,” he said with a wink and walked out the door. 

It was only on his way home that Steve realized he never gave Barnes his name. 

\---

It had been three days and Steve hadn't seen Barnes. It's not like he should care. They’re not friends. They’re practically strangers to each other. Still, Steve finds himself slightly worried over the fact that Barnes hasn't been at the cafe for three days. Or at least at the cafe during Steve's shift. 

Steve still doesn’t see Barnes for another five days. 

It was a Tuesday when Barnes finally makes an appearance. Steve had been sweeping towards the back of the cafe and had been focusing on cleaning the floors, so he jumped slightly when Peter Parker, who was working the register, screamed. 

“What’s the matter, Peter?” He asked as he jogged slightly to the register. 

Peter looked as white as a sheet when he said, “Barnes is coming.”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes so hard he was worried they would roll right out his head. “Oh my god. He’s not that bad. He’s not even scary at all.” Through the big bay windows, Steve could see Barnes walking up to the cafe but something about him seemed… off. 

“Says you. He’s nice to you. He used to yell or glare at everyone else,” Peter said as he walked away leaving Steve to deal the register. 

The bell chimed and Steve watched as Barnes stalked in. Barnes showed no confidence today. His head was down and he had no strut in his walk. One look at his face made Steve question if the man got enough sleep. 

“One large coffee to go?” Steve asked. Barnes nodded. 

“Thanks.” 

Steve grinned slightly as he moved around to fill up the coffee cup. He moved back to Barnes. “Here you go, Mr. Barnes,” he said as he placed the cup in front of Barnes on the counter. 

Barnes just stared at him for a moment before he stuck his hand out. Steve blinked for a moment, shocked before he grabbed Barnes’ hand in a firm handshake. 

“I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky,” Barnes- James said.

“Nice to meet you, James. I’m Steven Grant Rogers, but everyone just calls me Steve,” he giggled a little. 

“Call me Bucky,” he said before putting a five dollar bill on the counter and exiting the cafe. 

_Huh,_ he thought. _Bucky…_

He smiled. 

\---

Steve was walking home from the cafe when he had the strange sense he was being watched. He, as casually as he could, glanced around but saw nobody in sight. Dismissing it, he continued his way. 

He still felt like he was being watched but ignored it. When he reached his house, he pulled out his key, jiggling the lock (because the lock got stuck sometimes,) and unlocked the door. Opening it, he pulled his key out, stuffed it into his pocket and began walking inside. He wasn’t really paying attention when he was inside because the door was left open and a body pushed its way into the house. The person moved too fast for Steve to notice, and the person grabbed Steve, pushed his back against the door and as a result, closing it with a loud bang. Steve’s eyes were closed and he felt a warm, fit body press against his. 

The person’s hands were on his hips, thumbs moving in circles. The body was curled towards him and Steve could feel breaths near his ear. The person whispered, “Shhh, it’s okay.” 

Steve opened his eyes to stare directly into storm gray orbs. 

The person was Bucky. 

“What- Bucky-” he stuttered. 

“Shh. Steve. It’s okay. I’m gonna make you feel good,” he whispered. 

“What-” Steve began before a pair of lips slammed against his. This isn’t how he imagined his first kiss. He felt like he was being clumsy. He felt like he wasn’t kissing right. 

One of the hands at his hip disappeared for a moment before he felt it nudge his head to the side slightly and then he thought his knees might buckle. 

It was perfect. 

Steve could feel Bucky’s tongue lap his lip and he opened his mouth letting Bucky’s tongue slide into his mouth. Steve groaned loudly. 

Bucky slipped his hands down to the backs of Steve’s thighs and lifted him up against the door. 

Steve pulled back and took a deep breath. “Bucky,” he groaned.

Bucky’s lips were back on his and he could feel Bucky’s erection pressing into his ass. His own erection shifted uncomfortably against his jeans. 

Bucky’s hands loosened around his thighs and he felt his feet touch the ground. Bucky was attacking his belt and in less than thirty seconds, Steve’s pants and boxers were on the floor and he was, once again being lifted against the door. 

Bucky was kissing him again and he felt a lubed finger prod at his entrance. After a minute, the finger slid into the knuckle. 

Steve pushed down against the finger and soon another was added. The only noises that could be heard were groans and gasps from Steve.

When four fingers were comfortably inside him, he whined impatiently, “Bucky.” 

Quickly, the fingers left him and were replaced by something bigger, thicker; Bucky’s lubed cock. 

Bucky pushed into him slowly until he levels out. Then, he began thrusting in and out. Slowly at first but then gaining in speed. 

Steve was already close to release and it wasn’t long before he came. Bucky followed closely. 

And then-

-Steve woke up to come cooling in his boxers. 

_This is not good,_ he thought as he sat up in bed surveying the mess in his lap. 

\----

The next day came and like every other day, Bucky came as well. When he walked into the cafe, Steve couldn’t even think about looking Bucky in the eye after that dream. 

“One larger black coffee to go,” whispered Steve as he set the coffee down. 

“Thanks, Suga’,” Bucky said charmingly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the smut, It was my first time writing it.
> 
> Comments convince me to write more!! :)


	3. Something Isn't Right...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER GETS DARK, QUICKLY. THERE IS ANIMAL ABUSE. THERE IS ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT. IF EITHER OF THESE THINGS ARE TRIGGERING OR JUST NOT YOUR CUP OF TEA, _DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER._ It's just to show how dark Bucky is, and was when he was younger.**
> 
> I will leave a **very vague** summary at the end of this chapter for those who do not choose to read it.

The year was 2001 and Bucky knew something wasn’t right with him. He had been in his second class of the day at school, math when he was taken from class. 

He guessed that they were expecting him to cry, or throw a fit. He didn’t. He just shrugged and asked if he could go back to class now. 

They looked at him like he was a psycho, he probably was. Most people would cry, scream or at least seem sullen when they were told that their parents had died just an hour earlier in a car accident. 

But, he wasn’t sad. 

Bucky knew that he wasn’t normal. He knew that his mind could not be healthy. His thoughts weren’t ones that should belong to a seventeen-year-old boy. 

He remembers getting similar thoughts when he was younger too. 

One time when he was six, not long after his birthday, his Dad came home carrying a small bundle of fur in his coat. 

They named the kitten Calico. Why his parents let a six-year-old name a kitten, he’ll never know. The kitten was, unsurprisingly, a calico cat. He had a white belly, white paws that looked like socks, a small amount of gray and black over his back and face and an almost completely orange covered tail. 

In all honesty, the kitten was kinda ugly to Bucky. He couldn’t understand why they all thought it was cute. 

It was later that he stepped on the kittens little paw when he went to go to the bathroom. It cried out and Bucky, he liked the noise. 

It after he was done in the bathroom that he found the kitten and picked it up. He held it in his arms, pet it for a moment but stopped when it began to purr. He lifted the small kitten from out of his arms and held it in his two hands. 

And he began to squeeze. 

The kitten began to cry out and Bucky just kept squeezing harder. It was then that his mother walked into the room. She must have heard the kitten crying and got curious. 

“James!” She yelled when she saw what he son was doing. 

He dropped the kitten and looked at his mom with innocent eyes, ‘What?” 

“Don’t ever do that to anything ever again.” She grabbed his ear roughly, pulling him from the ground. “Do you heard me?” 

He nodded while trying to get her fingers away from his ear. Roughly, she let go and pushed him from the room. 

They never talked about it again. It was just a child being a child. 

There was another time when he was fifteen, he had his boyfriend, Cain Marko, over for the night. They had been together for about a week and his parents were out of town for the night visiting his aunt. 

They were laying on the couch necking, Cain sprawled on top of Bucky. Cain was getting handsy and Bucky didn’t want to go that far yet. 

Forcibly, he shoved Cain off him. 

“What the hell-” Cain yelled angrily. 

“I don’t want to do that yet.” 

“Yeah and who’s gonna stop me if I want it now?” Cain said lewdly. 

Cain was considerably bigger than Bucky but he wasn’t in the least bit worried. 

“Well, we are alone, so I guess, no one,” Bucky whispered in faux fear. 

Cain grinned and moved towards Bucky like a lion stalking its prey. 

Cain stood in front of him, Bucky seated on the edge of the couch and Bucky was level with Cain’s crotch. 

Slowly, Cain started to unbuckle his belt. The belt came off and Bucky chose now to strike. 

As fast as he could, he kicked up towards Cain’s crotch. His kicked landed perfectly and while Cain doubled over in pain, Bucky threw a left hook then an uppercut. 

While Cain was doubled over clutching his crotch and jaw, Bucky ran for his bag at the other end of the couch and pulled out a small pocket knife. 

He walked up behind Cain, grabbed his hair and brutally pulled down causing Cain’s head to lean back and his neck to be exposed. Bucky placed the edge of the blade against Cain’s Adam's apple. 

“Ohh. We are all alone. No one could stop you if you wanted to rape me.” Bucky laughed but there was no humor in it. Pressing the blade harder against Cains neck he could see small beads of blood, he whispered into Cain’s ear, “Do not ever threaten to rape me again. Because I can promise you next time, It’ll end a lot worse.” 

Swiftly he moved the blunt end of the handle and jammed it into Cain’s forehead just above his left eye. Letting go of Cain’s hair he let the boy drop to the floor as he moved away and back to the couch.

“Get out,” he said emotionlessly. The boy quickly got up and ran towards the door, stumbling a little in his haste to leave. “Oh, and Cain?” he called after the other boy. “We’re through.” He grinned broadly. 

_ That was thrilling, _ Bucky thought. 

Those weren’t even the worse things he’d done…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Vague Summary:** It starts in 2001 when Bucky is at school. He's called to the principles office and told that his mom and dad died in a car accident just a bit earlier. He asks to go back to class. Bucky, at age six, is found by his mother squeezing a kitten hard enough that it couldn't breathe. At fifteen, Bucky is threatened of rape by his boyfriend, Cain Marko. He kicks Cains ass real quick. He then thinks about how thrilling that was. 
> 
> Sorry, that was pretty dark. I did warn ya.
> 
> Cain Marko= [Juggernaut](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Cain_Marko_\(Earth-616\))


	4. Apple Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty vanilla compared to the last one. No warnings. 
> 
> But... I think this chapter is kinda cute...

It was Friday and for whatever reason, all his teachers just loved the thought of torturing kids on the best day of the week. He had had a surprise pop quiz in Math, two tests, one in US History and another in Earth and Physical Science, he had to run a mile in gym class and in English, he was given almost fifty pages he had to read and annotate by Monday. 

In conclusion, Steve was exhausted and wanted to go home even if it wasn't the best there right now. 

So, when Bucky walked in on Friday evening, four-thirty on the dot, and a glimmer in his eye, Steve almost cried. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to see Bucky, he did, but Steve was so mentally fatigued, the thought of having to deal with his ridiculous crush on a man probably twice his age made Steve want to burst into tears and run straight home to his ma. 

Bucky sauntered up to the counter, a small smirk tugging at his lips. 

“One large black to go?” Steve guessed. 

Bucky took no time replying, “Actually, I was thinking I'd sit and have some pie today.”

The statement shocked Steve. He'd already dreaded spending a mere two minutes with Bucky and now he'd have to deal with however long it takes Bucky to eat his pie. 

“Okay then,” Steve said. “What would you like then?” Steve realized one second after he spoke that a new flirtatious remark would slip from Bucky's lips. 

“I’d like to take you out for the night of your life.” 

Steve blinked. 

_ Did he- was he just asked out? _

The first thing that popped into his mind was to yell  _ ‘Yes!’ _ Then reason came soon after.  _ ‘You barely know the guy…’ _ it said. _ ‘Tell him maybe when you're older… let him down easy…’ _ it whispered. 

“I- um- I don't know…” he breathed. “I'm really busy right now. Maybe some other time?” He asked gently while fiddling with his hands. 

“Of course, Steve,” Bucky replied gently. “I'd love some of that apple pie… you have a break coming up soon right? Why don't you have a piece too? My treat.” Bucky smiled gently, the devilish smirk nowhere in sight. 

He looked at the clock; Bucky was right. His break would start in five minutes. But that voice in his head halted him. 

_ ‘You don't know anything about him… what if he means harm…’  _

_ I don't think he’s dangerous; he probably couldn’t even hurt a fly, _ Steve thought. 

“Ya, okay,” Steve said slowly. “Do you want your regular too?” When Bucky nodded he said, “Okay that'll be six dollars and fifty cents. I'll come bring these to you when my break starts?” Steve suggested. 

Bucky smiled even brighter, handed Steve the money and went to sit down in the booth farthest from the door. 

Five minutes later, his break began and Steve grabbed the coffee and two slices of pie and walked towards the back booth. 

He was nervous, not the bad, scared type nervous, but the excited kind of nervous and his palms were sweaty and his heart pounded against his ribs. 

He was also less exhausted too. He thought he'd dread having to spend more time than necessary with Bucky but… he was kind of looking forward to it...

Bucky was on the phone when Steve set the coffee down. Bucky looked up sharply at the noise, a strange glint in his eye that vanished when he saw Steve. Bucky hung up quickly and shoved the phone deep in his pocket. The weird glint changed into a friendly one. Steve couldn't help but think the strange glint seemed almost familiar. 

“Hi, Steve,” Bucky said. 

“Hi, Bucky,” he grinned slightly. 

Steve sat down across from Bucky in the booth and stared at the pie. Bucky had yet to acknowledge the pie, just stared at Steve. It was only when Steve made a move for his fork that Bucky seemed to snap out of his daze. He copied Steve's movements and picked up the fork, taking a huge piece from the pie. 

The noise that came from Bucky reminded him of his last dream and Steve blushed brighter than a tomato. 

“This is delicious!” Bucky beamed. 

“Yeah, it is. It's actually my favorite food,” Steve spoke without really thinking and he blushed again. 

“I wonder how far that blush goes...” Bucky mused out loud. This comment just made his blush run deeper. 

Bucky laughed loudly. 

“You blush easily, don'tcha, Steve?”

All Steve could do was nod. 

“So, your favorite is apple pie?” Bucky said after a small moment of relative silence; only the murmur of other patrons and the scrape of their forks on the plate. 

“Uh, yeah. My ma actually used to take me here all the time when I was younger.” That's all he said. He didn't want to bring up his ma much. 

“That's sweet. And let me guess, you always chose the apple pie?” 

Steve giggled, “How'd you manage to figure that one out?” He teased gently. 

Bucky opened his mouth to reply but the sound of a cell phone ringing cut through their conversation sharper than a knife. Bucky sighed, looked up for a moment before answering his phone with a gruff, “What?” 

Bucky didn't speak for a few minutes, he just listened. It was about two minutes later that Bucky sighed again, said, “Be there in ten. Don't do anything ‘til I get there,” then hung up the phone. 

Bucky glanced towards Steve and sighed again. He looked down towards the ground for a moment. 

“I have to get back to work. My employees are incompetent,” he laughed but it was humorless. 

“I understand,” Steve said and moved to stand up. 

“Maybe we could do this again?” Bucky asked voice full of hope. 

“Yeah, maybe.” And it didn't seem like an empty promise. 

\---

After that day, their routine shifted just a little. Bucky no longer took his coffee to go. Instead, he moved into the back booth enjoying his coffee and the occasional slice of apple pie. And when he bought a piece of pie, he’d always buy Steve a slice. 

Steve would take his break with Bucky and not long after, Steve found himself shocked over how much he knew about the older man in such a short amount of time. 

Steve smiled. 

He knew a lot about Bucky. 

His favorite color was blue, specifically Steve’s eyes colored blue. His favorite drink was coffee and his favorite food was lasagna, ( _ “Not those stupid Stoffers, Steve. It has to be homemade.” _ )

Bucky owned a small business in engineering and had a moderately sized apartment downtown. That's what Bucky said at least. 

His favorite tv show was Criminal Minds, his favorite movie was Snow White, ( _ “That’s my favorite movie, too” Steve said shyly. “It’s a match made in heaven, Stevie…” _ ) and he was bisexual.

Steve tried not to get too excited over the last one. Bucky was already taken. 

He doesn’t know why it came as such a big surprise one day when Steve found a small business card on the table where he and Bucky usually sat. He saw Bucky leave and went to clean the table down but abruptly stopped when he noticed the small black square that was placed on the table. 

The card read:

_ James Barnes, Engineer. Barnes Industries, 43 Brooklyn St. Phone: 191-811-2000. Email: jamesbarnes@barnesindustries.com.  _

He flipped the card over and smiled at the loopy and messy handwriting there: 

_ Text me sometime? 191-817-1945. _

Biting his lip to keep from smiling too hard, he shoved the card in his pocket. He’d text Bucky later.

\---

It was almost eight o’clock before he texted Bucky. 

**Steve:** That’s pretty presumptuous of you, Barnes. What if it wasn’t me that picked up the card? What if I threw it away?

Bucky either was busy or just took his sweet time replying. It was almost nine thirty before Bucky texted back. That whole hour and a half Steve paced nervously around his room. He opened his phone and saw a message. He quickly unlocked his phone and read it.   

**Bucky:** Sorry. I was cleaning a mess up. Stupid employees. 

Then, a few minutes later: 

**Bucky:** I don’t think it was too presumptuous… I mean, you did text me. And really, Steve? I don’t think you could have thrown that card away even if you tried.

Steve smiled. 

**Steve:** Now you have my number. Goodnight, Bucky. 

**Bucky:** Goodnight, Baby. 

\--- 

America stood by the register and watched as Steve sat with Barnes. 

“Cho. You worried?”

Amadeus glanced to Steve and Barnes. 

“Yeah. I am. Steve is too sweet and Barnes is too mean.” Both of their eyes were glued to where the two men sat. 

“Mmm-hmm. What if Barnes does something to him?” She murmured. 

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t.” 

They finally looked at each other and smiled slightly. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any of those curious, the phone numbers are special because I can and I did add meaning to them. 
> 
> _191-811-2000_ :1918, the year Steve was born in the MCU. Eleven is just there because I needed the numbers to take up the room. 2000, the year which Steve is born in this fic.  
>  _191-817-1945_ :1918, the year Steve was born in the MCU. 17, the year Bucky was born in the MCU. 1945, the year WWII ended, the year Bucky "dies" and Steve crashes the valkyrie in the MCU. 
> 
> Also the address, _43 Brooklyn St._ : 1943, the year Steve and Bucky leave for war in the MCU and Brooklyn St. that shouldn't need an explanation. 
> 
> (This is what happens if you have no life like me... LOL :D )


	5. Just Taking A Walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, **Warning: Mentioned character with cancer.** Other than that, I think the chapter is kinda fluffy or well it's leading up to it. 
> 
> Sorry about being too on long posting. What, like two days? Sorry. 
> 
> This chapter is kinda sort as well, sorry. 
> 
> Hope you like!

Steve was walking. His shoulders were slumped and his down as he stared at the ground. Where was he going? He didn't know. He was confused and angry and he needed time to clear his head. 

Everything was doing so well! Why couldn't it stay that way?

His ma’s condition just got considerably worse. 

Over a year, reduced to less than two months. 

Why'd this happen to him? Why couldn't they help her? Why wouldn't the chemo just  _ work _ ?

It did for a while, she got better, she could walk around, go out, it was good. 

Steve saw his mother eat more than two bites of a meal without stopping. He saw her walk up the stair by herself. He saw her days become more productive and she slept less during the day. 

The days weren't sad; they were filled with happiness that finally, finally, she was getting better. 

But, all good things must come to an end. 

She insisted that she could go to the grocery herself. 

And she collapsed. 

Then, everything went to Hell. 

_ The chemo isn't working anymore, _ they said. 

_ You're dead and we can no longer help you, _ is what they actually said. 

Eventually, she'd be gone, he'd be heartbroken and he'd be alone. 

He had no one but her. 

He kicked a pebble and watched as it rolled away from him and into the road. 

He did it again and again and again. Walking after the pebble each time and kicking it again. 

He had no end place in mind he just kept walking, thinking, and trying to keep the tears at bay. 

When he finally picked his head up, the street looked similar and he realized that the cafe was close, probably only a block away. 

Sighing, he walked to the cafe; His eyes were down and his feet sluggish. He pushed the door open and grimaced a little when the bell above the door chimed. 

Walking into the cafe he felt slightly calmer. He always felt relaxed here. 

Walking up to counter he felt relief wash over him when neither America or Amadeus was behind the counter. It was a junior named Peter who Steve had met probably two times before. 

The boy smiled when he saw him and Steve smiled back tightly. 

“Hi, Peter,” he said pleasantly. 

“Hey, Steve. Is it your shift today?” Peter asked questionably. 

“No, no. Just ordering today,” Steve spoke with a small smile. 

“Okay then, what would ya like?” 

“One slice of apple pie.” 

\--

He sat down in the back booth where he and Bucky usually sit. It felt a little strange sitting by himself. He didn't have Bucky with him and he felt kind of lonely. 

He sighed. 

He got to work eating the pie, and Boy! Wasn't it good? 

He smiled happily and continued eating his pie. 

The smile began to fade as he got closer to finishing his pie. 

He was one bite away from finished, a huge pout on his face when his phone dinged from his pocket. 

He smiled broadly even before he pulled it out; only one person ever texted him. 

**Bucky:** How many Disney movies have you seen?

Steve felt slightly confused at the randomness of the text but answered it anyway.

**Steve:** I don't know. I've seen a lot but obviously not all of them. Why? 

A moment later. 

**Bucky:** I just bought Moana and I was thinking you'd like to come over and watch it with me?

Steve felt butterflies in his stomach as he read the text. 

Bucky wanted him to come over to his apartment, where he lives, and watch a movie, most likely sitting next to each other. 

Steve hesitated before replying: 

**Steve:** Sure. Where do you live?

**Bucky:** I can come get you? Where are you? 

**Steve:** I'm at the cafe. 

And suddenly, Steve felt nervous again. He tried to calm the butterflies that were flying around in his stomach but to no avail. They kept fluttering around. 

His hands felt sweaty and his heart was beating so hard he was worried he'd give himself a heart attack. 

It was a stressful twenty minutes later when Bucky walked through the front door of the cafe in skin tight black jeans and a black tee shirt on. 

Steve prayed he wouldn't pop a boner. 

Bucky walked to the counter, frowning in confusion when Steve wasn't behind the counter. He looked around and when Bucky noticed Steve at their table, he sauntered over to him a bright smile on his face. 

“Hey, Stevie.” 

“Heya, Buck.” 

“Ready to go? My apartment isn't that far. I'm really excited to watch this.” He sounded like a child on Christmas Eve. 

“Sure, let’s go.” 

Bucky held his hand out for Steve, which he graciously took. Bucky's hands were soft. Steve could feel a few callouses but other than that, his hand was soft. Steve's hand fit perfectly into Bucky's hand. It's almost like it was meant to be…

Bucky lead him through the doors of the cafe out onto the street and towards a black Mercedes Benz. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next chapter will be a lot darker... more about Bucky. So, warning.


	6. Two Years Earlier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, readers! First off, I'm sorry. Secondly, **there are allusions to attempted rape, it's not said but it's implied, I guess.** Thirdly, it's not Steve at Bucky's apartment... I'm sorry, again. I needed to get dark(ish) Steve in here somewhere, plus I need to make you wait for Steve at Bucky's apartment because I can. Sorry.
> 
> So, hope you enjoy!

**Two Years Earlier.**

Steve was on the curb. 

_ When did I get outside on the curb? _ Steve thought.  _ What the hell? _

Confusedly, Steve stood up, glancing around. The street was unfamiliar. In fact, there were no street signs or  _ anything _ that indicated to where he was. 

Stepping off the curb and onto the street, he glanced down the road. Nothing. 

He glanced up the road. Nothing. 

The place was empty. No one. There were only buildings and many alleyways. 

Hoping to find out where he was, he began walking down the street. 

_ Where was he? _

He startled, nearly jumped from his skin when a blood-curdling scream rang out. It was coming from the alley closest to him. 

Without thinking, he sprinted down the alley to find a brown haired woman pinned against the wall with tall man towering over her. 

The entire length of his body was pressed against her and his hand was up her skirt. She was hitting him and pleading him to let her go. 

“Hey!” Steve yelled angrily. He ran to the man and forced her away from the woman. He used all he had and threw the man against the opposite wall. He put himself in front of the girl and said, “Go. Run.” 

She did so without a peep. 

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” the man said. 

The man stood up from where he was crumpled on the ground. He momentarily used the wall for support. 

The man was facing away from him, but when he turned Steve almost gasped in surprise. 

It was Joseph Manfredi.

He was older, had a small mustache on his upper lip and a few gray hairs speckling his temples but it was undeniably him. 

“Manfredi,” Steve said. 

“Rogers,” was the gruff reply. Steve rolled his eyes. 

“What were ya doing with the girl, huh?” 

“Why do you even care?” 

“Because it’s wrong.” 

Manfredi rolls his eyes, scoffs, and charges at Steve. 

Usually, Steve would be terrified at a man over two hundred pounds charging at him but his mind was calm. He wasn’t scared in the least. 

Manfredi is about two feet away from his when Steve side steps and Manfredi crashes head first into the brick wall behind him. Manfredi though seems unaffected except for the loud groan he gives. 

He stands up, shakes his head and glares at Steve. 

“You lil’ shit.” 

Manfredi pulls a small knife from his pocket and gives a sinister smile. 

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Steve asks gesturing to the knife. 

Manfredi was confused and gave Steve the weirdest look. 

“Come on then,” says Steve while using his fingers to gesture to himself. 

Manfredi just shrugs and comes at him again. 

Manfredi is about two feet away again when he swipes the knife near Steve’s abdomen. Steve, luckily, jumps back and out the way. He grabs Manfredi's arm when the sharp part of the blade is away from him and twists Manfredi’s arms down and towards his back before grabbing the knife. 

Steve lets Manfredi’s arm go, he turns toward Steve and Steve… 

He stabs him in the chest. 

“I told you I’d be stronger on day and you wouldn’t like me,” Steve says and then… 

Steve wakes up. 

_ What was that? _ He asks himself while trying to calm his beating heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any curious, if you want to watch how Steve gets the knife from Manfredi, check out [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ftfa1jzfg6k). Also, sorry about the how many dreams there are. It's easiest to write with Steve. Extra sorry about how short this chapter is. 
> 
> **Also,** for any of you like like my other works, I'll be posting another work soon... (It's gonna be really sad.) 
> 
> Comments give me life, :)


	7. One57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang it, I'm sorry once again! This scene is Steve at Bucky's apartment, but not exactly... 
> 
> Sorry.

Walking out the doors of the cafe remind Steve that it’s the beginning of May and it’s still quite cold out. 

The hand on his lower back, Bucky’s hand, guides him along to the black Mercedes Benz parked in front of the cafe. 

Steve was shocked that Bucky owned a Mercedes. He knew Bucky owned his own company but he didn’t think that he made enough money for a Mercedes. They were expensive cars. 

Bucky kept guiding him along to the passenger side door and chivalrously opened the door for Steve. 

“My sir,” Bucky murmured. 

Steve giggled, “Thank you, Bucky.” 

Steve moved into the car and sat down, moving his feet in as well. Bucky carefully shut the door gently, not slamming it. 

Steve began to buckle as he watched Bucky walk around the front of the car and to the driver's side door. 

The car was, unsurprisingly, fancy. The interior of the Mercedes was black leather- actually, the entire interior of the car was black except for a few, very few, silver accents. Everything was shiny, to nice to touch. The radio and dashboard controls looked almost futuristic. Needless to say, this was the most expensive car Steve had even seen let alone sit in.

Steve snapped out of his daze when Bucky opened the door and sat down.

Moving until he was comfortable, Bucky shut the door gently, without a slam, and turned to face Steve. 

He smiled and said, “Hi, Steve.” 

Steve smiled back and said, “Hi, Bucky.” 

“Ready to go?” 

Steve nodded, ignoring the butterflies that were slowly gaining in number.

Bucky pulled out from the parking spot and started to drive North towards the city. Steve kept trying to calm the new wave of butterflies that grew the closer they got to the city. 

Steve kept his eyes looking out the window, too afraid to look anywhere else. He refuses to admit that he startled a little when he felt a hand on his thigh. 

Bucky’s hand was on his thigh. 

He looked at Bucky. 

Bucky seemed nervous as he said, “Is this okay?”

Steve must have stared at Bucky for a moment too long because Bucky slowly moved his hand away and put it back on the steering wheel. 

“No, wait-” he says. When Bucky quickly glances at him again, Steve nervously looks at his lap. “It’s okay. Just surprised me was all.”

He kept his eyes firmly on his lap and this time he didn’t jump when Bucky placed his hand on his thigh. 

Bucky’s thumb was moving in slow circular movements. As weird as it was, Bucky’s thumb was very calming and Steve relaxed a little. 

The ride wasn’t long and Bucky’s hand never moved to do anything inappropriate.  

Honestly, it was the best ride of Steve’s life. 

It was twenty minutes later when Bucky pulled onto a street; It looked expensive. There were in the wealthy part of the city where rich people would buy penthouses and such. 

Bucky slowed to a stopped in front of a huge skyscraper. Not just any skyscraper, the skyscraper, the most expensive skyscraper in New York.  The One Fifty Seven; The  _ Billionaire  _ Building. 

How rich  _ was  _ he? 

Steve’s mouth fell open when Bucky’s hand moved from his thigh to unbuckled himself and his other hand moved to the handle. He will admit he was slightly sad when Bucky’s hand left his thigh. 

“You live here?” He asked in disbelief and wonder. 

“Yup,” Bucky said adding a loud ‘p’ noise to the end of it. Bucky quickly hops out of the car. 

Being as chivalrous as before, Bucky jogged around to the other side of the Mercedes to open the door for Steve who was just unbuckling himself.  

The door swings open and Bucky’s hand is held out for Steve to take. A small smile on his face, Steve takes the offered hand and steps out of the car. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” he mutters, a bright blush on his face. 

It’s directly after he’s out of the car that Steve pulls his hand away from Bucky’s and crosses both his arms around himself. Bucky smiles slightly and leads the way. 

“Come on, Steve.” 

Steve follows obediently mouth open in awe. 

Bucky walks into the lobby, strutting like he owns the place. 

“Hello, Donna,” Bucky says sweetly to the women behind the desk. 

“Good afternoon, James,” she replies. 

Bucky smiles before sauntering to the elevator and clicking the up button. 

Steve who is still near the door, just stares at Bucky. 

“Steve. Come on,” Bucky says impatiently. Moving, he practically runs to stand beside Bucky. 

As they wait for the elevator, Steve takes the time to look around. The ceilings are high, at least twelve feet tall. The walls look like they're made of marble. There are numerous chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and the floors look like white marble. 

The elevator dings and Steve jumps. As the doors open, Steve wonders how expensive this building is.

The ride in the elevator is quiet and quick. In just a minute, they are on the top floor; Floor 73. 

_ Jesus _ , Steve thinks. 

Bucky walks out and begins to take his shoes off. He throws them around like it’s nothing. 

Bucky stops and looks back at Steve who’s still standing in the elevator. 

“What’s the matter, Steve?” 

“You live here? In the One Fifty-Seven?” 

“Yes,” Bucky says plain and simple. 

“You’re a billionaire?” he asks hesitantly, quietly. 

Bucky sighs quietly and brings a hand to the bridge of his nose. 

“Yup, I am, Steve,” Bucky says not unkindly, but certainly not nicely. “Is this gonna be a problem?” 

Steve is taken aback. “What? Bucky, no. It’s not a problem. I’m just shocked. You said you owned a small business. Being a billionaire isn’t a small business, Bucky.” He’s starting to get mad. “Why would you keep this from me? Jesus, Bucky!” he yelled. “You live in the mother fucking One Fifty-Seven!!” He says as he brings his hand up to his forehead and begins pacing back and forth. 

Steve’s getting so worked up. He knows he needs to calm down before he triggers an asthma attack, but he can’t. 

“Oh my GOD, Bucky! Was it something that you just didn’t think was important enough to tell me? I thought we were friends, Bucky!” he gasps out. 

His breathing is becoming labored now. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Bucky! It wouldn’t have changed anything!” He’s been so busy pacing, he hadn’t paid attention to how Bucky stalked over to him. 

Steve opened his mouth reading to start yelling again when he felt two pairs of hands on his shoulders. They spun him around and-

_ Bucky was kissing him. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bucky's Penthouse Apartment Inspiration.](http://www.businessinsider.com/inside-one57-most-expensive-building-2015-11/#it-might-be-easy-to-see-why-this-is-the-newest-most-expensive-building-in-new-york-19)
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry, I'll try to make the next chapter end without a cliffhanger. 
> 
> Comments convince me to write more!!! :)


	8. Moana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Readers! I am so sorry this took so long. I had finals every day last week, but fortunately, they ended on Friday (June 16). I started writing on Saturday but I had writer's block (ugh.) At least I finished. 
> 
> **My only warnings are these: There are mentions of past stalking. There are also very vague spoilers to Moana. (I'm not even sure if it counts as spoilers. It's a sentence about one scene from the middle of the movie, but I'll put a warning as a spoiler just in case.)**
> 
> Hope you like this chapter. I do believe it's one of the longest chapters yet. :)

_ Bucky was kissing him.  _

Steve was so shocked it took him what seemed like forever to react. In the first few seconds, he didn't kiss back. Only stood slack-jawed and open-eyed. When he realized what was happening, he started kissing back hesitantly. Unaware of where to put his hands, he left them hanging at his sides. 

Bucky eventually pulled away when Steve was beginning to run out of air and looked at Steve expectantly. 

“Was- Is this okay?” Bucky hadn't moved far from Steve and he could feel Bucky's breath on his lips at every exhale. Bucky almost sounded nervous if the stutter was anything to go by. 

Steve felt surprised at the question. He nodded numbly before reaching up, weaving his long fingers through Bucky's hair and pulling Bucky's lips back to his own. 

Steve had always imagined his first kiss. He thought it would be dry and his partner would have cracked lips. He was scared it'd be passionless and have no meaning. He worried his first kiss would be horrible; one he'd look back on in regret. He always thought he'd be nervous and fumbling, but he wasn't. 

It was everything he thought he would never have for a first kiss. It was sweet, gentle, filled with passion and carried more meaning than could be described. Bucky's lips glided over his own and when he felt Bucky's tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, he easily widened his jaw to let Bucky in. His tongue lapped at Steve's teeth and a loud groan ripped its way from Steve's throat. 

Bucky slowly pulled away and rested his forehead on Steve's, a hair width of space between their lips. 

Sluggishly, Steve opened his eyes which he hadn't realized he had closed. 

And Bucky… he looked amazing. 

There was a blush high on the apples of his cheeks, his hair was rumpled and his lips were swollen and bright red. Steve could only imagine what he looked like. 

Steve took a lungful of air before he spoke. 

“So, you  _ actually  _ like me?” 

It was Bucky’s turn to look surprised. 

“What- Steve. Of course, I like you. I've had the biggest crush on you since the first day in the shop. I thought I made that obvious enough,” Bucky said exasperatedly. 

Steve blushed, looked down and muttered a small, “Oh.” 

Steve had never actually taken into consideration that Bucky's flirting meant anything more than friendly teasing. 

Steve glanced up to notice Bucky rolling his eyes fondly. 

“Come on. You're here to watch Moana,” Bucky said as he grabbed Steve's hand and began pulling him more into the penthouse. 

The first room Bucky led him to was a kitchen and Steve realized that this room was  _ twice  _ as big as his bedroom. 

Steve gawked. 

There was an island in the middle of the room and it was roughly the size of Steve's small twin size bed he had at home. The door was on the left side of the room and the wall behind Steve was just floor to ceiling windows. In the kitchen, on the left, center and right walls were numerous cupboards and plenty of counter space. There looked to be double of everything; double dishwasher, double stove, double oven and double microwave. The room looked to new, expensive and Steve wondered if Bucky actually used the kitchen or if he had a chef or something. He kept his thoughts to himself. 

Bucky had walked into the kitchen towards the cupboards closest to the fridge which was on the right wall. Bucky had his back to Steve and he finally noticed how tight Bucky's jeans were. They were black skinny jeans and Steve could see everything. Needless to say, Bucky's ass looked amazing and Steve mentally chastised himself for taking so long to notice. 

Since Bucky was rummaging through the cupboards, which were full of food, Steve let his eyes wander over the span of Bucky's backside. It was not a bad view, Steve thought appreciably. 

“You like popcorn, right?” Steve was broken from his trance as Bucky's voice. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I like popcorn.”

“Good ‘cause that's what I'm making.” Bucky paused to look over his shoulder at Steve. “What do ya want to drink?” 

Steve thought for a moment. “Root beer?” he asked. 

“There's some in the fridge,” Bucky muttered. 

Steve wandered over the fridge and opened it as he heard the sound of a bag package being ripped open. The fridge was big, humongous, and it took Steve a few minutes to locate the root beer in beer bottle shaped glasses at the back of the fridge. He stuck his head inside reaching for the back and he could hear a microwave door being opened, closed, then he heard some buttons being pushed before the microwave started up. 

Grinning when he grabbed a bottle of root beer, he shut the door and turned around to see Bucky leaning against the island counter, arms crossed watching him. 

Trying to dismiss the sudden feeling of awkwardness, Steve said, “What?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes again before pushing off the counter and right into Steve’s space. He crowded Steve against the fridge, pushing his chest to Steve's. 

Bucky grinned devilishly. 

“Hi,” Bucky whispered.  

Steve smiled back broadly. “Hi,” he whispered back. 

They stayed in that position, unmoving, just staring into the other's eyes for a few minutes before Bucky broke the stillness and leaned in and- 

The microwave dinged. 

Bucky laughed a bit to loudly and gave Steve's cheek a small peck before pulling away and retrieving the popcorn. 

“Come on. To the movie room,” Bucky said in a narrator’s voice and lead the way to the movie room. 

Three rights, one left and another right later, Bucky pulled open the door to the movie room. 

Like earlier, Bucky held the door open for Steve and in response, Steve just rolled his eyes but a blush could be found high on his cheeks. 

Steve walking into the movie room and he wondered why he kept getting surprised, but he did. He was surprised. 

The movie room was, unsurprisingly huge. The screen was big, not as big as a cinema's but pretty close. It had two rows of seats but they weren't cinema seats. They looked almost like love seats and there were about four of them in total. The love seats looked just big enough for two people. 

Steve looked back over his shoulder at Bucky and found him already looking at Steve. 

“Where are we sittin’?” Bucky asked. 

Steve just turned around and walked to the front row and sat in the love seat closest to the door. 

“Here,” Steve said as he plunked himself into the seat arranging his feet under himself, staring at the screen. 

“Okee dokee artichokee,” Bucky said which caused Steve to glance back at Bucky with a confused face. 

Bucky, annoyingly, rolled his eyes again. 

“Ya know, you have a real bad habit with rollin’ your eyes?” 

Bucky just scoffed and sat down close enough to Steve that their thighs were touching. Bucky shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

“Uh, don't’cha want to start the movie?” Steve asked. 

Bucky cleared his throat from a popcorn kernel and said, “Wanda, can you start the movie please?” 

And with that, the Disney Castle appeared on the screen with almost tribal sounding music. 

_ “Tulou… Tulou… Tagaloa… Sei e va'ai mai…” _

\--- 

Moana, her boat, and Hei Hei just crashed into the small rocky island when the movie was paused unexpectedly and a young looking brunette girl poked her head into the movie room. 

“Uh, Mr. Barnes?” She asked hesitantly. 

“Yes, Wanda? What is it?” Bucky asked impatiently. 

“Ms. Romanoff is here to see you.” 

Bucky sighed loudly. “Send her in.” 

The girl-  _ Wanda-  _ nodded and left the room. The movie remained paused and the room was silent until Bucky broke it. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know Nat was going to stop by. She won’t stay long and we can finish the movie.” Bucky gave a small smile. 

Steve’s stomach filled with dread at her name. He looked at Bucky intensely. 

“Buck,” he said seriously. “Please tell me she isn’t your girlfriend because if she is, I  _ swear  _ to God.” 

Bucky’s face contorted as many emotions flashed over his face before it settled on disgust. 

“What? Steve. Nat isn’t my girlfriend, she’s my-” Bucky didn’t finish because a feminine voice called out. 

“James!” the voice said impatiently. 

Steve’s eyes shot up to the door just as a petite red hair sauntered into the movie room. 

“James, we have a prob-” She cut herself off after she realized Bucky wasn’t alone. Green eyes focused on him sharply. Steve felt like she could see into his soul; it was unsettling. “Who is that?” She asked Bucky, eye contact never wavering. 

Bucky sighed and stood up which resulted in Natasha to finally look away from Steve. In that moment, Steve was never more grateful. 

“Natasha, this is Steve from the cafe.” He gestured from Nat to Steve. “Steve, this is Natasha… my sister.”

And Steve just stared blankly. 

Natasha wasn’t Bucky’s girlfriend. Bucky wasn’t Natasha’s boyfriend. 

...Because they were siblings. 

Steve closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands while internally groaning. 

I’m such an idiot, he thought. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and picked his head up. The siblings were watching him; Bucky with an amused face and Natasha impassive, except for a hint of annoyance behind her eyes. 

He sighed internally. 

“Hi,” Steve said while standing and moving his hand out in front of him for a handshake. Natasha stared at his hand for a moment before grabbing it with a strong hand. “Hello,” she said. She continued to stare at Steve for a moment or two before she cleared her throat and turned to Bucky again. 

“James, we have a problem. You need to come with me.” 

Bucky sighed and let his head fall back so he was looking upward. “Who is it?” 

“Newell.” 

Bucky’s head snapped forward before he sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. 

Dropping his hand, he turned to Steve. 

“Steve,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry. This is really important. I need to go. How about you go to bed, it’s pretty late, and we can finish this tomorrow?” 

Steve tried not to feel disappointed but he nodded anyway. It's not Bucky's fault, Steve thought. 

“Thank you. I’ll show you my room. You can sleep there.” The devilish grin was back with a wink. 

Bucky gently grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him from the movie room. He was dragged down the hall, took one left and a right before Bucky opened a door. The room was bland, uninteresting really, except for one thing; Similar to the kitchen, there were floor to ceiling windows in the room but different from the kitchen was that the windows covered not one wall but three. The bed was in the perfect spot and one could see Central Park from the bed. He could also see the city lights from the City That Never Sleeps. And boy, wasn’t that a view. 

“Sleep here tonight.” 

Steve glanced at the bed, which was a huge California king. Steve wondered how Bucky could sleep in such a big bed by himself. 

He nodded and headed towards the bed. It did look comfy, he thought. Getting in, he felt like he was lying on a cloud. How could he ever go back to his tiny worn out twin after this? He kicked his shoes off and moved to lay down. When his head hit the pillow, he realized how exhausted he was. He let his eyes slide shut only to have to open them a minute later when he felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him slightly. 

Bucky was standing over him, clothes in hand. “Here ya go,” Bucky said. “You’ll have something to sleep in.” Steve muttered a small ‘Thank you’ just as Bucky checked his watch. 

“I have to go. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” Steve nodded and Bucky started for the door before turning back around and pressing a firm but chaste kiss to Steve’s lips. Bucky smiled briefly and then he was gone. 

Steve changed quickly, slid under the covers and embraced sleep with open arms. Exhaustion kept him from thinking of the day he had because he was asleep before his head hit the pillow. 

\---

Bucky walked from the bedroom lips still tingling from the quick kiss he gave Steve. 

And he was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. 

He didn't mean to fall so fast. He didn't mean to  _ fall  _ at all, actually. He didn’t usually care about people he meets outside of bars, but for whatever reason Steve stuck in his mind and refused to leave. He only flirted with the kid in the first place to get him in bed but then everything changed. He got to know Steve. And wasn't that a pleasure. 

He finally got to learn more about Steve  _ from Steve _ instead of what he learned while he was researching him. 

Bucky thinks back on this. He doesn't feel guilty, per say, but he feels like he should tell Steve. He should tell him how he followed him home one day to learn how he lived. He should tell him how he went to the school and threatened the principle until he handed over Steve's file. He wanted to see what type of student he was. He should tell Steve how he went to Maria Hill, the owner of Le Cafe Du Cafe, and made her tell him his work schedule so Bucky knew exactly when Steve would be there. 

Bucky thinks that Steve has the right to know. 

_ I’m not going to tell him,  _ he decided. _ It'll probably only cause problems.  _

He walks back into the main foyer to see Natasha picking her nails as if she was bored. 

“I'm here let's go,” he barked. 

The ride in the elevator is quiet but tense. Bucky's anger can be felt with the amount that's radiating from him. 

The elevator dings and they step out together. Natasha has her driver, Scott Lang, pull her black SUV up just as they step out of his building. 

Scott jumps out the SUV as they walk out and he pulls the car door open for them. 

“Ms. Romanoff, Mr. Barnes,” he greets with a nod. 

They sit down in the back of the SUV and they are off to Bucky's building. He turned to Natasha. 

“So, what about Newell, Nat?” 

“We just found him,” she says with no explanation. Bucky internally rolls his eyes. 

“So… where was he?” 

“We just found him on our doorstep. Which isn't why you’re here.” 

Bucky nearly groans. “Then,  _ why  _ am I here?” he says sharply. 

“Good ol’ Walter Newell… He's dead.” She started picking her nails again. “I do believe that it was Hydra. He had that fucking octopus carved onto his back.”

Bucky sighed. He knew why they got Newell. Last week they-  _ he-  _ killed Tomi Shishido, an agent of Hydra who was working as a spy. Bucky's didn't like spies and needless to say, they showed no mercy and dumped Shishido in Hydra’s backyard. He thought Shishido could be trusted but when ‘the incident’ showed Shishido to be a Hydra agent… shit went down. Shishido wasn't the only person they lost that night. 

“Okay. So why am I here? This couldn't wait till morning?” 

“Nope,” she said. “While Hydra was dumping the body, sloppily, I must add, we caught one of their agents.” 

Oh… it was gonna be a fun night indeed… 

\---

It was around one in the morning when Bucky finally got back to his penthouse. He was exhausted and covered in blood. Normally, he would have just changed and gotten into bed then cleaned his mess up in the morning, but tonight he couldn't do that because of the person in his bed. 

Jumping in the shower, he cleaned all the blood away and used his favorite shampoo and body wash. 

Quickly he changed into some pajamas and left the bathroom heading the room Steve was in. 

The Window Room, as he called it, wasn't his actual bedroom. He only used that to impress people. He never actually slept in the Window Room because it had the biggest threat level. He'd sleep here tonight because he barely ever slept in this room so it was very unlikely an attack would happen. His actual bedroom was down the hall. 

As quietly as he could, he opened the door and slipped inside. Shutting the door quietly was a feat because the door was big and squeaky, but he managed to do it. 

Looking to the bed, he found Steve curled up in a ball on one side of the bed. He smiled.  _ Of course, that's how he sleeps, _ he thought fondly. 

Bucky moved to the bed and pulled the covers back enough for him to get in. He lay down beside Steve, not touching but close enough that he could feel what little warmth Steve gave off.  He had shifted trying to get more comfortable when Steve shifted back into Bucky as if he was seeking Bucky's warmth. When Steve's back was pressed firmly against Bucky's chest, Bucky put his arm around Steve's waist and shoved his face into Steve's neck. He smiled, closed his eyes then drifted off to sleep. 

\---

Steve woke to the feeling of the bed dipping behind him. He knew it was Bucky and he tried to calm his nerves… 

_ He was sleeping in the same bed as Bucky…  _

He felt the bed covers being pulled down and a body slipping between the sheets. The body shifted closer, rested for a moment before shifting again trying to get comfortable. Steve, for whatever reason, thought it was a perfect time to shift backward. And he did. 

He shifted backward until his back hit a chest, a very muscular chest, he must add. He almost sighed happily when an arm fell over his waist and a face pressed into his neck. He kept quiet though. He, instead, smiled slightly and fell asleep. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the penthouse as I describe it isn't actually how it is, but I'm the writer so I changed it. The actual One57 can be found [here.](http://www.businessinsider.com/inside-one57-most-expensive-building-2015-11/#it-might-be-easy-to-see-why-this-is-the-newest-most-expensive-building-in-new-york-19)
> 
> When Bucky says "researching" he actually means stalking. 
> 
> If you're interested in why Steve thinks his first kiss would be so bad, it's because of me. Everyone I knew told me about their first kiss and how bad it was. So for like my entire childhood, I just assumed that first kisses were always bad. 
> 
> Also, Characters!  
> Newel= Dr. Walter Newell, aka [Stingray](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Walter_Newell_\(Earth-616\))  
> Tomi Shishido= [Gorgon](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Tomi_Shishido_\(Earth-616\))
> 
> If anyone wonders why I have seemingly random characters, It's because I have this book called _Marvel's Avengers Ultimate Character Guide_ which has like thousands of characters that have had relations, good or bad, with the Avengers. I just flip to a page and BAM, I have a new character. :)


	9. Good Morning!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Readers! I am so sorry this took so long... again. It's just- I get distracted super easy and I forget. :( Sorry. 
> 
> This is the only warning I got for this chapter: **Child Abuse- Steve gets hit, kicked and threats of death from his uncle. (Sorry)**
> 
> Also, I just got done writing this. I literally wrote this, then edited really fast and now I'm putting this up, so if there are any glaring grammar mistakes, you won't offend me if you comment! 
> 
> So, I think this is sorta a long chapter? (It's almost three thousand words!) Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Steve was wearing white. Music could be heard in the background but he couldn’t make out what it was. He was spinning in circles, Where was he? 

He stopped.

“Ma?” It was Sarah. She was in a beautiful blue floor length sun dress and she was beaming at Steve. 

“Are you nervous? Not getting cold feet, are you?” 

_ Huh? _

“No?” Steve guessed. 

“Good. Wouldn’t want to leave Bucky hanging.” She smiled. 

_ What? _

The music got louder and Sarah’s eyes lit up. 

“It’s time,” she said while grabbing his arm. 

“It’s time for wh-” he was cut off by the doors in front of him opening. 

It was an aisle, multiple pews perpendicular to the walkway and at the end… 

Bucky stood in a tux with a huge grin plastered on his face. 

His heart rate picked up as he began to walk and Steve- 

\---

Steve opened his eyes to see the early morning light drifting in through the windows. 

He blinked his eyes multiple times, adjusting to the light and fading confusion left from his dream. It was after his eyes adjusted that Steve noticed the warm presence behind him or most specifically, the warm chest behind him. 

He smiled and moved backward more into the warmth. He smiled wider when he felt Bucky stir and curl tighter around Steve. 

The arm at his waist pulled him tighter into the chest and Bucky's face was pressed into his neck. 

Steve giggled when Bucky exhaled, his breath tickling the skin at his neck. 

“Good mornin’,” Bucky said groggily. 

“Good mornin’,” Steve whispered. Steve moved his hand from where it was directly in front of his face to his waist. He moved Bucky's hand until Steve could entwine their fingers together. 

Steve squeezed Bucky's fingers and was delighted when he felt Bucky squeeze back. 

Steve thought back to the dream he had last night. If only he could wake up this way every morning… 

They laid like that together in silence for maybe a few hours until Bucky broke the silence. 

“Turn around, I want to see you.” 

Steve grinned and rolled his eyes but still turned around to face Bucky. 

“Hi,” Bucky whispered. 

Steve scoffed quietly. “Hi, Bucky,” he said. 

Bucky’s hand found it’s way to Steve’s cheek and he cupped his cheek. Bucky’s thumb moved rhythmically back and forth. There was a small smile on Bucky’s lips before he leaned down and pressed his lips to Steve’s. 

The kiss was chaste but nonetheless amazing and left Steve breathless. 

When they pulled back, Steve made a face and said jokingly, “Ew, Bucky! Morning breath!” 

Bucky’s laugh was loud, contagious and within a few moments, they were both shaking with laughter.  

The moment calmed and they were left trying to gain control of their breathing. When their breathing returned to normal, Steve looked directly into Bucky’s eyes and he saw something serious. 

“Steve,” Bucky whispered. 

“Yes,” he whispered back. 

Bucky closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Without opening his eyes, he said, “Does it bother you?” 

Steve blinked in confusion. “What? Does what bother me, Bucky?” 

Bucky took a minute before he answered. He opened his eyes and said, “The age difference. I’m a lot older than you, Steve. Not many people like that.” 

Steve sighed. “It doesn’t bother me, Bucky. Not one bit. I mean, there are other relationships out there with a bigger age difference.” 

Steve remembers reading a story online a long time ago. It was a story about a woman who was in her middle twenties, _ twenty-five, _ Steve thinks. She had eloped but that wasn’t the reason the family had gotten mad. They had gotten mad because the man was in his late fifties.  _ Something like fifty-nine.  _

But honestly, Steve had no problem with the age difference. His mom always told him that age, weight, and height were numbers, and no one could put a number on Love. His dad and mom’s relationship was a perfect example. The age difference was not as big as fifteen but it was close. When his mother met his dad, she was twenty-one and he had just turned thirty. 

“Really, Steve? I’m fifteen years your senior. I was  _ a teenager _ when you were born,” he scoffed. 

Steve felt his anger spike. “Why? Does it bother you, Buck? Is that why you're askin’?” 

Bucky looked alarmed and Steve felt satisfied. “What! No, Steve, No! I just-” he cut himself off, ducked his head and just took deep breaths. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with this,” he said quietly after a moment.  

Steve’s anger deflated. “Bucky. It’s okay. I’m fine with it. I don’t care what other people think. It’s our relationship.” Bucky looked up sharply and Steve quickly added, “I mean- If that’s what you want. A relationship.” He inwardly cringed. 

“Yah,” Bucky breathed. “I love for this to be a relationship.”

They both smiled at each other broadly. 

“Let me take you on a date. Sometime soon,” Bucky said. 

Steve was so ecstatic he could only nod. 

\---

It was a while later, past noon, when Bucky drove Steve back to the cafe. 

After their chat in bed, they mutually agreed to finish  _ Moana _ after a big breakfast of eggs, toast, bacon and orange juice. They had snuggled during the rest of the movie, which, luckily, had no interruptions this time. It was hands down one of Steve’s favorite memories. 

When Bucky drove Steve back to the cafe, he kissed Steve fully on the lips and sadly said that he had to get to work even though he wished he could stay with Steve for the rest of the day. 

Steve got out of the ridiculous Mercedes, closed the door and sauntered up to the steps of the cafe. Steve turned around and waved goodbye to Bucky before stepping into the cafe, ready for work. 

Since it was past noon, it wasn’t rush hour so the cafe seemed still when he walked in. It was quiet and nearly empty. Steve had begun to walk to the counter when he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. 

Frowning, he pulled it out. No one really called or texted him except Bucky, his mom’s nurse and- 

_ Oh no _ . 

He looked down at the phone in his hand and felt his stomach drop. 

There were fourteen missed calls and six text messages all from the same person. 

**Uncle Alex:** Where are you? 

**Uncle Alex:** Where the hell are you?!

**Uncle Alex:** You better not be ignoring me boy. 

**Uncle Alex:** You better be home soon you little shit.

**Uncle Alex:** WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU

**Uncle Alex:** You're gonna get it when you get home. 

Steve needs to get home. And he needed to be home hours ago. 

_ This isn’t going to be good, _ he thought. 

Gulping, he pocketed his phone and put on a brave face. He walked to the small office where his boss worked and knocked on the door lightly. 

“It’s open,” a feminine voice said. 

He turned the door handle and walked into the small office. 

“Hi, Maria.” 

“Hi, Steve. What’s up?” she asked while looking up from the paperwork she had been doing. 

“I need to take the day off. I don’t think that my mom is doing well,” he said gravely. 

“Okay,” she sounded slightly worried. “You don’t take a lot of days off, so your good. Take all the time you need, Steve and I hope your mom’s getting better.” He hadn’t told anyone about his mom’s cancer. Not even Bucky. It felt too private to tell anyone else. Maria must have assumed that his mom had gotten the flu or some other virus and that she needed Steve’s help. It wasn’t a secret that Steve was raised by a single mother.

“Thank you,” he nodded and left the small office, closing the door behind him. 

\---

His heart was pounding hard against his rib cage and his heartbeat was loud in his ears. Fear raced through his veins the closer he got to the house. His hand was trembling as he turned the doorknob and entered his house as quietly as he could so no one would notice him. 

Unfortunately, the Universe thought differently.  

His heart froze when he heard a sly voice call out his name. 

“Steve.” 

He was facing towards the stairs and sideways to the living room where the voice came from. 

“Yes, Alexander?” 

“Come here,” the voice said sternly. 

He turned into the living room and walked towards the figure in the chair by the window. He stopped about a foot away. 

“Where have you been all night? You were needed here and no one could get a hold of you.” 

“I was with a friend. I needed to clear my head.” He was proud that his voice didn’t waver. 

“Wrong answer.” Steve’s mind had only begun to think about what he had heard before the man was out of the chair and a fist connected with him; pain blossomed in his jaw. He cried out sharply at the pain before he fell to the floor. He felt shocked; It wasn’t the first time he’d been hit by Alexander. What shocked him was the fact that Alexander never hit him anywhere someone could see… 

“That’s for not being here all night, you little fucker. And this- this is for ignoring me.” Steve cried out again as he felt a boot connect with his ribs. He tried curling into the fetal position but the hand in his hand stopped him. The hand pulled his upper body off the floor.

“Listen here and listen well.” Alexander was inches from his face. He was near whisper but it didn’t make any of it less threatening. “Next time you think about leaving and ignoring me-” he tugged harder on Steve’s hair causing Steve to gasp loudly. “-be prepared to not get up next time because I promise if this happens again, I won’t be using my fists.” 

Alexander threw Steve back down to the ground, delivered one last kick to Steve’s abdomen and stormed out of the house, not before slamming the door shut with a loud BANG!  

Steve curled up on the floor and kept the tears at bay. He wouldn’t let Alexander have that. 

\--- 

Steve had been working the register twenty minutes into his shift and all he had felt since he walked in were multiple eyes on him. He finished serving a nice blonde woman before sighing and turning around. 

America and Amadeus were leaning against the counter, not bothering to hide that they were watching him. 

“What?” he snapped. 

America and Amadeus glanced to each other before turning back to Steve. 

“Did Barnes give you that bruise?” America asked. 

Steve gasped in horror. “No!” he snarled. “Bucky would never, ever, do that. He didn’t give me this. I got into a fight on the walk here. Some man was following a woman.” 

Neither of them looked convinced, but, in their defense, Steve was a horrible liar. 

\---

It was later that evening when Kamala Khan was sitting in her living room watching Criminal Minds when her phone pinged, signaling a text message. 

She grabbed her phone and found she was in a group chat:

 

_ Group: Awesome Sauce Le Cafe Du Cafe Employees  (Minus Steve) _

**Stars and Stripes:** Steve had a nasty bruise today…

**Miss Marvelous:** What happened? 

**Prince of Power:** He told us he got into a fight walking 2 work but it wasnt very convincing 

**Miss Marvelous:** You don’t belive him?

**Miss Marvelous:** believe*

**Stars and Stripes:** He’s been hanging out with Barnes lately remember? Who knows what that man is doing to him!

**Spiderman** : Steve left with him the other day he seemed friendly enough 

**Prince of Power:** YOU LET STEVE LEAVE WITH BARNES

**Prince of Power:** ARE YOU NUTS???????????????????????

**Spiderman:** Its not like I can stop him! Steve is an adult in like a month hes responsilbe

**Miss Marvelous:** But Barnes is CRAZY 

**Stars and Stripes:** Probably a psychopath or something 

**Stars and Stripes:** Something isn’t right with Barnes and  Romanoff do you not remember why we have our rules?

**Prince of Power:** you mean all the rules that Steve broke?

**Spiderman:** Of course I remember why we have the rules!

**Stars and Stripes:** Then we have to do something!

**Miss Marvelous:** My mom has a close friend who works for NYPD

**Stars and Stripes:** Perfect. 

\---

Sam Wilson’s day was quite frankly boring. He woke up, took his daily jog, came home, ate breakfast, got ready for work and then left for work. You’d think working for the NYPD would be very exciting, right? 

It wasn’t- Or well, It wasn’t today. 

It was almost four and all he had done all day is paperwork. 

He had closed a case yesterday and was stuck doing paperwork today. And, of course, no new case had graciously slid over his desk and into his lap. No amount of wishing could change that. 

He was almost done, only a folder left, when his partner Clint Barton, slid over to stand beside his desk. Clint stood quietly, not still though. He was shifting from one leg to the other. 

“What is it, Clint? Can’t you see I’m almost finished?” 

“There’s a girl here for you. She says she knows you and needs to talk. She’s in conference room one,” Clint offered no name before he walked away. 

Sam huffed before pushing the folder aside and standing up. 

Conference room one wasn’t far from his desk and within a minute he was pushing the door open. He gasped in surprise. 

“Kamala?” he asked confusedly. 

“Hey, Sam.” She waved. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“My friends and I are worried about our friend,” she said simply. It was then that Sam noticed the three other teens sitting in the room. 

“Oh, Hi. I’m Sam Wilson.” 

Kamala spoke up. “That’s America Chavez,” she pointed to the tall latina girl to her right. “This is Amadeus Cho,” she said and gestured to a short Asian boy. “And this nerd here is Peter Parker.” Lastly, she pointed to a young, brown haired boy who was hunched over in his chair. The boy just waved awkwardly. 

“Nice to meet you all.” Sam pulled out a chair. Sitting down, he said, “So, why are you worried about your friend?”

They all glanced at each other before America opened her mouth. She explained everything to Sam from the second set of rules at the cafe to the bruise Steve’s jaw was wearing the other day. She explained how they all got nervous, queasy or downright scared when the sibling pair walked in. She explained how self-righteous Steve was and how worried they were for him. 

“Steve is only seventeen. Barnes is like forty. Isn’t that illegal?” 

“Do you have any proof of a sexual relationship?” 

America stuttered. “Well, no, we don’t. But something’s not right here.” 

Sam sighed.  “I’m sorry. No crime has been committed. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t stop two people from being friends because right now, that’s the only proof you have.” 

“But what about Barnes and Romanoff? They are creepy. Something isn’t right with them,” Amadeus spoke up for the first time. 

“I can’t do anything about people you all think are creepy.” 

Sam managed to get them all to leave after convincing them there was nothing he could do. 

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the names  _ Barnes _ and  _ Romanoff _ seemed really familiar… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have no idea how cops work. I only know what I know from Criminal Minds and I know that's the FBI but it's the closest thing I have, so if anything Sam did was wrong, comment and I'll fix it! 
> 
> Incase you don't know: Miss Marvelous= Kamala Khan; Stars and Stripes= America Chavez; Prince of Power= Amadeus Cho; Spiderman= Peter Parker. 
> 
> Also, I couldn't find the story that Steve mentioned. :( I tried looking for it but I couldn't find the exact one or I would have linked it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Comments give me life and convince me to write more! :)


	10. Where It All Began...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Friends! I'm sorry! I haven't updated in forever! I recently got into the Harry Potter Series and I've literally been doing nothing lately except read those books. I read the fourth one, page count:734, In. A. Day. Such an amazing series. Well, Anyways... here's Chapter 10! It's a long chapter, yeah! 
> 
> **So, Warnings: Murder. Changing the rating to _graphic descriptions of violence_ because- actually, I'll let you read it for yourself. A single line insulting male prositutes(Bucky says man-whore).** If there are any other warnings people want me to add, let me know! 
> 
> This chapter shows us how Bucky got into the mob... Hope you enjoy! :)

Bucky was walking home when everything began.

 

Ever since his parents died in the car crash little under two years ago, he had to take up multiple jobs to pay rent for his crappy, run down apartment. His job was nine to five, six days a week at the local grocer.

 

He groaned as he stepped outside. It was late September and the cold was just starting to set in. He pulled his jacket up around his ears and began walking home.

 

\---

 

He had been walking for about ten minutes when he noticed a black car was following him. The car showed up about five minutes ago, but Bucky dismissed it. He obviously didn't think that it would start following him. He walked for just a little longer to confirm that the car was actually following him, he stopped suddenly and at the same time, the sound of a moving car stopped.

 

Looking up to the sky as if he was searching for the strength, he lowered his head and turned around. He angrily stalked up to the driver’s side window.

 

The car was black, or maybe dark blue, and all the windows were tinted, so it made it impossible to see the driver. Annoyed, Bucky tapped hard on the window. It took a few minutes but eventually, the window rolled down.

 

Inside was a man, probably in his late twenties. He had dark hair, glasses, and a very impressive build. This man was handsome and seemingly perfect. Bucky was annoyed that he was attracted.

 

“Yes?” the man said as if he was waiting on Bucky.

 

“Why the fuck are you following me?” Bucky asked angrily.

 

The man was quiet for a moment before he answered.

 

“Wanna job, kid?” the man asked.

 

Bucky just crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “I'm not a prostitute if that's what you want. I'm not a man-whore, asshole, so fuck off.”

 

The man sighed. It was too hard to tell, but Bucky thinks he saw the man roll his eyes. “I’ve seen you around. You work a lot of jobs, don’t’cha?” He didn’t wait for a reply before he started talking again. “I’m offering you a job, kid. I don't want a fuck boy. Just gotta do a few odd jobs here and there for me. I’ll pay more than all your jobs, promise. So, what do ya say?”

 

\---

 

Bucky has been working for Doctor Andrew Forson for three months now. The work was simple; pick up dry cleaning, order the take out, call the secretary and have his schedule rearranged, etc. He was basically an under titled secretary/ personal assistant.

 

Plus, Andrew didn’t lie when he said he’d pay more than what Bucky was making. Bucky finally had enough money to move from that crappy apartment and into something nicer. He was finally in a nice neighborhood. There were no drug deals on the corners or hookers on the sidewalks offering.

 

Bucky was waiting for the catch, though. He had been working for three months and everything was simple, easy, childish. The longer he worked for Andrew the more curious he got about why he was working for him.

 

That’s another thing. Bucky isn’t dumb; He knows that the company Andrew owns, A.I.M, is not a normal company. He knows that the company has ties to the Mob. Andrew isn’t that sneaky. Or, well, Bucky just has a really good eye.

 

Bucky had been at home, sitting and pondering about his job when his phone dinged. It was a text message:

 

**Andrew** : Meet me at my place ASAP.

 

Texts like these weren’t uncommon. In the first few weeks, Bucky was always on edge. He was worried about why Andrew needed him as soon as possible. Maybe I am getting fired, he would think. But, the weeks that followed he learned that these texts were usually unimportant like, for example, Andrew wanted take-out and he needed Bucky to go get it.

 

Bucky sighed and locked his door as he left his apartment.

 

\---

 

Fifteen minutes later, he was in the elevator riding up to the top floor where Andrew’s penthouse was.

 

The elevator dinged and he stepped out only to find Andrew right at the entrance.

 

“Hi,” Bucky said slightly awkward.

 

“Hello, James. Come with me.”

 

Andrew turned around and led Bucky to the dining room where two plates were set up facing each other at the end of the large dining table.

 

Bucky was curious. “We’re having dinner?” Bucky asked stupidly.

 

Andrew hummed. “We are.” Andrew walked over to a seat and pulled it away from the table. With a hand, Andrew gestured for Bucky to sit.

 

Bucky eyed Andrew but eventually sat down. Andrew pushed the chair in for him and moved to sit opposite of Bucky.

 

It was directly after Andrew sat down, that the head chef, Victoria Hand, walked into the dining room with a silver platter which she set in the middle of the table. She removed the lid and exited the room.

 

Glancing at the meal, Bucky’s mouth began to water. “My favorite,” he said as he began to pile his plate high.  

 

“Hmm. Yes. Indeed it is,” Andrew said as he cut into the filet mignon.

 

Bucky began to cut his steak as well. It couldn’t cut the up the entire small steak before he had a piece in his mouth. When the filet mignon hit his tongue, he moaned loudly.

 

“This is delicious,” he moaned.

 

The next few minutes we silent except for the chewing of steak and the moving of utensils. Bucky’s curiosity was peaked; usually, Andrew jumped right in but Andrew had hardly spoken at all.

 

Glancing up, he found Andrew already looking at him. He narrowed his eyes slightly and refused to look away as he said, “Why am I here? It’s gotta be something important, right?”

 

Andrew’s chewing slowed for just a moment. He swallowed his bite then said, “We’ll talk once we’re finished.”

 

Bucky looked back at his plate, his brow furrowed.

 

Andrew never waited until they were finished eating… What did this _mean_?

 

They finished their meal a few minutes later and when Andrew stood after pushing his plate away, Bucky felt his nerves creep up.

 

“No dessert?” he asked.

 

Andrew smirked and his eyes held amusement. “Maybe later.”

 

Andrew led Bucky down the hall toward the study, which Bucky had seen multiple times before. The desk was mahogany and grand. The chairs were big and comfy. The fireplace was always lit but the room was never too hot. There were no windows, though.

 

Andrew moved to the small liquor cabinet he had beside his desk. He unlocked it and pulled his favorite whiskey. Grabbing two glasses, he poured a reasonable amount into both.

 

“Come, sit.” He gestured to the small couch near the hearth.

 

Sitting in the middle, Bucky took the tumbler from Andrew’s hand. Bucky settled into the couch as Andrew sat down next to Bucky… really close to Bucky… There was no space between them at all. They touched from their knees to their shoulders.

 

Bucky turned his head to Andrew, whose face was inches from his own.

 

“So, you’re wondering why you’re here?”

 

Bucky nodded, dazed at how close Andrew was.

 

“Good,” Andrew moved his arm so it was over Bucky’s shoulders. “You know, don’t’cha?” he asked nonchalantly.

 

Bucky’s daze was broken and confusion took its place. “I know what?” he asked.

 

Andrew’s eyes flashed with seriousness.

 

“You _know_. You know how A.I.M is a little different than other companies…”

 

It dawned on Bucky then.

 

“Ohh,” he breathed. “You mean how you’re involved with the Mob? I don’t mind,” he said steadily.

 

Andrew laughed but it was humorless. “Your cute, Bucky.” He blushed at the compliment. _Was it a compliment?_ Bucky thought. “But we’re not _involved_ with the mob…” He paused for a moment, the proceeded to say the words that would change Bucky’s life forever.

 

“I _am_ the mob.”

 

\---

2004

 

Bucky stood over the quivering man listening to his loud sobs. The man, Jake Fury, thought it’d be fun to rat them out for a few extra dollars. Now, Hydra, their opposing gang, had the upper hand on them. They’d gladly release Fury back into the world with a few extra dollars because everyone knew that Snitches get killed first.

 

And they were _merciless_ to snitches.

 

“What’d you tell them, Fury?”

 

The man began to sob even louder if it was possible. “Nothing. I swear. He- He- He just wanted to know who was involved and-”

 

“Oh, I see,” Bucky interrupted coolly. “You thought it'd be fun to rat out some of the loyal to get your own sorry ass out of trouble… Did you think we wouldn’t find you, Jake?” Bucky sneered. “Did you think we’d forget about you? You remember who I am don’t’cha? You remember what my job is, right?”

 

Jake sobbed again but nodded his head ‘yes’.

 

“Then you know I don’t forget anyone. That’s my job, Jake. I can’t forget everyone. I remember who everyone is and everyone who works for the boss man… So when no one heard anything from you in _weeks_ , guess who the first one to release it was?”

 

Bucky paused to glance back down at Jake who Bucky had chained to the floor.

 

“You, Barnes?” he sobbed.

 

“That’s correct, Jake! And you remember what else my job entails, don’t’cha? I mean, you should, we were all introduced the day we met.”

 

“I remember…” he said.

 

“So you understand why I gotta do this, don’t’cha? I mean, it’s only my job, right? I can’t disappoint the boss man.”

 

Jake only cried harder.

 

“Please,” he cried. “I’ll do anything!”

 

Bucky tutted. “I can’t, Jake.” He glanced back at the guards behind him and nodded to the chair, “Bring it here.”

 

One of the men brought the steel chair over setting it down beside Jake’s head. Bucky unlocked the chains that held him to the floor and pulled Jake off the ground. He pushed Jake into the chair. With a grunt, Jake landed in the chair. Bucky pulled multiple pairs of cuffs from his pockets and began to cuff Jake’s arms and legs to the chair.

 

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it Jake?”

 

He pulled his favorite dagger from his pocket and sat sideways in Jake's lap. He brought the blade up and moved it across Jake’s cheek, not cutting, but putting enough pressure so Jake knew Bucky wasn’t messing around. He stopped struggling and went very still but the sobbing continued.

 

“Shh, Shh, Shh… It’s alright, Jakey-poo,” he said in a faux sweet voice. He leaned in so he was close to his ear. “I’ll make it quick,” he smirked and pulled back. He looked into Jake’s teary eyes and wiped the tears that had fallen. He winked before standing up facing away, turning back around and muttering, “This is ‘cause you snitched.” Then he stabbed his dagger deep into Jake’s left thigh.

 

A blood-curdling scream ripped from Jake’s mouth.

 

Bucky squatted in front of him before moving a gloved hand up Jake’s thigh. With his finger, he fondled his dagger’s handle, listening to Jake’s pleas.

 

“No- Please, No, Stop. I’ll do anything- _Please._ ”

 

In one quick movement, he pulled the dagger from Jake’s thigh and watched his mouth open in a scream and his eyes filled with pain.

 

Bucky looked away only as he brought the blade in front of his eyes. He watched the blood on the blade glisten under the lights.

 

He smirked and looked back to Jake. He was gripping the arms of the chair shaking his head side to side.

 

Bucky stood and jammed the dagger into one of the hands clutching the chair. He listened once again as Jake let out another loud wail.

 

“Stop! STOP! I’LL DO ANYTHING. JUST NOT THIS. Please!”

 

“Keep begging,” Bucky said. “You have a younger brother, don’t’cha?” Jake instantly quieted.

 

“No,” Jake whispered. “Don’t hurt him!” He was screaming again. “NO! NO! DON’T HURT NICHOLAS! HE HASN’T DONE A THING.” He was hysterical and Bucky took pride.

 

“I suppose you’re right. He is innocent. How old is he? Almost out of school, right? Maybe I’ll send him your ear as a nice graduation present?”

 

Jake was struggling once more. He kept repeating the same things and Bucky was getting bored.

 

“Give me the names of the people you sold out and I’ll give you my word, no one will hurt Nicholas.”

 

Jake stopped. “Promise?” His voice rough from all the screaming.

 

“Promise.” He put as much faux-sincerity as he could.

 

Bucky smiled. His fake sincerity convinced Jake and he internally congratulated himself. Jake took a deep breath and started listing names. “Victoria Hand, Modok, Abyss Drusilla, Evelyn Necker, Attuma, Werner Von Blitzschlag, Sean Dolan…” The list was seemingly endless but eventually, Jake came to a stop and looked misty-eyed back to Bucky. “Nicholas will be okay now?” he asked.

 

Bucky pretended to be in thought. “Ya know, Jake, you really shouldn’t trust the mob. I think I feel like sending Dolan out right now. HE wouldn’t like being told… he’s very private. What was that address again- oh, yes… Fourteen-thirty-seven Elmhurst drive, was it?” Bucky smiled.

 

Jake looked horrified. Bucky almost laughed at how big Jakes eyes got. “No,” he whispered.

 

“Yes,” Bucky said with a wide smile. “Bye-bye, Jake.”

 

And in one fluid movement, he pulled the dagger from Jake’s hand and slit his throat. He breathed deep, pausing to listen. Jake Fury was struggling to breathe and the smell of blood was strong. The ragged breathing choking noise eventually stopped, much to Bucky's disappointment.

 

He turned back to the guards behind him. “Take care of the body. Dump it in an alley or in the water. I don’t care, just dump it somewhere.” He began to walk away, a swing in his hips, pulling his gloves off as he went. He stopped by the exit, his hand on the door frame and turned back around. “Oh, and boys?” They both looked up from where they had been removing the cuffs. “Cut his ear off for me.” And with that, he left, slipping into the backseat of the SUV, heading back to Andrew’s penthouse apartment.

 

_What an interesting first kill_ , he thought. His smile never left his face. 

 

\---

2006

 

Bucky was panting, trying to steady his breathing as he collapsed face first on the bed. Finding it hard to breathe, he rolled around onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

 

It took many minutes to get his breathing and heart rate back to normal. When it did, he glanced to his left. Andrew still seemed to be catching his breath but when he felt eyes on him, he turned his head and green eyes found blue-gray eyes.

 

“I can’t go another round,” Bucky gasped.

 

Andrew burst out laughing. “Okay. Let’s just go to bed, then.” Bucky nodded his consent.

 

Andrew slipped beneath the covers and Bucky stood up, calling, “Gotta use the bathroom. I’ll be quick.”

 

Within a few minutes, he was back, walking back towards the bed. Andrew had his eyes closed but he was on his side facing the bathroom door. He opened them as the bed dipped when Bucky sat down.

 

Bucky quickly got under the covers and curled up next to Andrew, his head on his chest listening to his heartbeat, after Andrew had moved onto his back.

 

It didn’t take long for Andrew to fall asleep and when he did, Bucky gently moved away and grabbed his dagger from the nightstand where he had placed it before getting into bed. He had hidden his dagger in the bathroom, seeing as there was little space he could have hid it in the bedroom itself. He hadn’t wanted to raise any suspicion.

 

He moved and straddled Andrew, his thighs on either side of Andrew’s torso and he sat right above his navel.

 

“Andrew,” he called gently.

 

“Bucky, I thought you said you didn’t want another round,” came the groggy reply. Andrew had not opened his eyes.

 

“I had just been thinking… I wanna run this on my own. I wanna be a mob boss, like you.” Andrew made a noise that signaled he had been listening but didn’t reply. He still hadn’t opened his eyes.

 

“I wanna run this one… without _you_.” He slid the blade and pressed it gently to Andrew’s throat. He’d finally opened his eyes.

 

“Bucky,” he said warningly.

 

“You don’t scare me.” He leaned down and pressed a deep kiss to Andrew's lips. He pulled back and whispered, “Goodbye, Andrew.”

 

Then he stabbed Andrew through the heart.

 

He learned pretty quickly: you want something, _take_ it for yourself, don’t want something, _take care_ of it yourself.

 

He didn’t want Andrew, so he got rid of him. But, he wanted A.I.M… so he took it.

 

He wiped his dagger off on the sheets, laid back down and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, mentioned characters: [Andrew Forson](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Andrew_Forson_\(Earth-616\)), [Victoria Hand](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Victoria_Hand_\(Earth-616\)), [Jake Fury](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Jacob_Fury_\(Earth-616\)), [M.O.D.O.K](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/George_Tarleton_\(Earth-616\)), [Abyss Drusilla](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Abyss_\(Ex_Nihilo%27s\)_\(Earth-616\)), [Evelyn Necker](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Evelyn_Necker_\(Earth-616\)), [Attuma](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Attuma_\(Earth-616\)), [Werner Von Blitzschlag](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Wernher_von_Blitzschlag_\(Earth-616\)), [Sean Dolan](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Sean_Dolan_\(Earth-616\)). 
> 
> Yes, Jake Fury is actually younger, but I changed it because I can. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Comments give me life! :)


	11. Precisely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Readers! :) Here's chapter 11. I finished the Harry Potter series so I'm thinking I might update more? I don't know yet, though. Oh and also; I'm sorry, this is my warning: **It's sad (or at least I think it's sad.) Steve and Bucky fight and death happens. (It completely unrelated, though!)**
> 
> Hope you like it (even if this chapter is shorter) and thanks for reading! :)

Steve’s whole body ached and standing, watching the register all day didn’t help either. It had been one week since “The Bucky Incident,” as he later dubbed it, happened. Bucky was away at work and wouldn’t be back for at least another few days. Bucky was busy and that left Steve with very little contact since Bucky left. 

 

It was almost directly after Steve was dropped off at the Cafe, that Bucky was called away on business. Steve found out later that night, through a quick text that read, 

 

**Bucky** : Away on business. Will be back in around ten days. XO. 

 

When Steve replied, the message was left on  _ read _ with no reply. The next morning, he tried a voice call, only to be put through to voicemail. It was short and sweet, telling Bucky to call him back as soon as he heard it, but he still hadn’t heard from Bucky nearly seven days later. 

 

His exhausted added to his soreness swept through him and Steve felt as if he could faint. He crouched and rested his forehead on the counter, taking deep, even breaths. It helped and after a few more deep breaths, Steve straightened up. 

 

The cafe was nearly empty. It was past rush hour so the chances of many more customers were small; Steve let his mind wander. 

 

His mother wasn’t doing well. The doctors said two months, maybe less. What was he going to do without his mother? Where would he go? Thoughts like these clouded his mind daily. Sometimes he couldn’t be optimistic enough to try and see sunshine. Those were the days he’d lay in bed listening to the monitor across the hall. 

 

As much as he wished it hadn’t, the chemo stopped working. She wasn’t doing good and she only had months left of her life. The only thing that kept him going, the only thought that stabilized him enough so he wouldn’t break, was the thought that soon her suffering would stop. Her pain would stop. 

 

She’d be free. 

 

But even that thought didn’t help him very much. 

 

He thought of her lying lifeless in her bed. The pillows, the blanket, the [bed] looked daunting next to her small frame. The thought of how the machines next to her bed kept a steady beat; She was still alive. 

 

His thoughts changed and he felt the ghost of a hand rest upon his shoulder and he involuntarily flinched.

 

He thought of his uncle and what life would be like once she was gone. He thought of how things were now and how could he possibly survive the next few months? Everything got additionally worse every day that more and more life drained from his mother like an open wound into Death’s greedy hands.  

 

Tears begin to gather in the corner of his eyes and he hastily moved to wipe them away. He couldn’t cry- He  _ wouldn’t _ cry… not now, not yet.  

 

He glanced at the clock: It was closing time. He could finally leave but he dreaded going home. 

 

\--- 

 

Steve walks into work eleven days after “The Bucky Incident” to find Bucky sitting in his normal booth with a muffin and a cup of coffee. 

 

His heart leaps with excitement which is quickly taken over by rage. Searing, Steve stomped over to Bucky. 

 

Bucky looks up with a blinding smile only to vanish at the sight of an angry Steve. 

 

Steve stops right beside Bucky. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” he bellows uncaring about the other patrons. “I HAVEN’T HEARD FROM YOU IN ELEVEN DAYS!” 

 

Bucky looks worried and glances at the other customers before saying embarrassedly, “I was working, Steve, I’m sorry.” He glances down. 

 

“You were busy for ELEVEN DAYS! Too fucking busy to send a small text, or just give a quick phone call?” Steve asked exasperatedly. “Fuck you, Bucky,” he says softly before stomping away behind the counter. 

 

Once he was behind the counter, he tried cooling himself down. He doesn’t want to be mean to any customers. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. When he opens them, he feels his annoyance grow. Bucky is standing in front of him. 

 

“Steve,” Bucky whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m new to this… I- I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Bucky looks extremely guilty and Steve takes a small moment to feel smug. 

 

“It’s okay, Bucky,” he says after a moment. “Just don’t do it again.” Bucky looks up, once more, with a blinding smile. 

 

Steve then moved his hand to his hair and Steve watched Bucky’s previously happy features turn murderous. 

 

“What’s that?” Bucky growled. 

 

“What’s wha-” Before he could finish, Bucky’s arm shot out and grabbed his wrist. Steve’s heart stopped beating and all the air left his lungs. When he had reached for his hair, the sleeves of Steve’s shirt slid up and his bruises from Alexander’s hissy fit last night were on full display. 

 

Steve quickly yanked his arm free and slid his sleeve back down to cover his bruises. “It’s nothing, Bucky. Forget it.” 

 

Bucky blanched. “You want me to forget about what I just saw, Steve?” he asked. He lowered his voice and said, “Who did this to you, Steve?” 

 

“No one, Bucky. Drop it.” 

 

“Steve-” 

 

“Bucky. Drop. It.” Steve was glowering at Bucky now. Bucky took the hint and stopped asking; he didn’t look happy and a half an hour later, Bucky stalked from the cafe, his body tense in agitation. 

 

Hours later when Steve’s shift ends, he sighs walking out of the cafe. He stops and stares at what he finds outside. 

 

Bucky is leaning against the side of the cafe, clearly waiting for him, as he stood up straighter when Steve walked out. 

 

“Hey, Bucky,” he says stiffly. Bucky might have dropped the bruises but it still didn’t make Steve any less upset about the whole thing. “I’m heading home-” 

 

“No.” 

 

Steve stopped talking. “Excuse me?” 

 

“I said ‘no’. You’re not going home.” 

 

Steve scoffed. “You can’t control me, Bucky. You aren’t my mother. I’m going home.” He turns to walk away only to be stopped by a hand at his wrist forcing him to stay. 

 

“I can’t let you go home, Steve.” 

 

Steve slowly turns to face Bucky again. “Wanna say that again?” he asks calmly. 

 

“I can’t let you go home. I won’t let you.” 

 

It was those four little words that ignited the flame.

 

“ ‘I won’t let you.’ ” Steve repeats. With his free hand, he quickly pulls his arm back and punches Bucky straight in the nose. He delights when he hears a loud CRACK. “If I  _ ever _ see you again, I’m calling the police. Stay away from me Bucky. That’s a warning,” he says dangerously. 

 

With that, he turns around and stomps away from a bitter and bleeding Bucky. 

 

\---

 

May finished in a blur and June flew by, both to uneventful to remember. It was July Fifth, and Steve hasn’t seen Bucky Barnes in nearly two months. 

 

Steve can’t say that he’s distraught. As much as he misses Bucky’s company, it’s always quickly replaced with the rage that boiled beneath his skin and had refused to diminish even two months later. 

 

He thought Bucky was sweet and kind but it was too good to be true. It was that night in May that Bucky showed his true colors. 

 

_ I won’t let you _ . The words still rung in his ears; they were unforgettable and unforgivable. 

 

Steve sighed, clamored into his bed and fell asleep. 

 

\--- 

 

It was a few scant hours later, precisely three-fourteen AM on July Sixth, that Sarah Rogers passed in her sleep. 

 

It was precisely three-fourteen when Steve Rogers woke to a small alarm coming from his mother’s room. 

 

It was precisely three-fifteen when Steve Rogers walked into his mother’s room to see a flatline on the monitor. 

 

It was precisely three-fifteen when will trembling fingers, Steve phoned the hospice on-call nurse. 

 

It was precisely three-forty seven when his mother’s nurse arrived with hospice care. It was precisely three-forty two when hospice declared Sarah Rogers dead. 

 

It was precisely three-forty eight when Steve Rogers called his Uncle to deliver the news. 

 

It was precisely three-fifty one when Alexander Pierce arrived at Sarah Rogers house, just in time to watch the body on the gurney leave the house to be delivered to the morgue. 

 

It was precisely three- fifty-seven,  four minutes after the ambulance had left, that Steve Rogers crumpled and sat down on his door steps bawling without a soul to comfort him. 

 

It was three-fourteen precisely, Steve realized, on the Sixth of July when his heart broke and the only person he loved left him permanently. 

 

\---

 

Steve doesn’t know how long he sat on the steps staring at the ground, but the next thing he knew, a strong pair of arms were around him, hauling him up to his feet. 

 

The arms pulled him to a warm, fit body and for the second time that night he let the tears go and he sobbed into the warm chest. A hand ran up and down his back and small nothings were whispered into Steve’s deaf ears. 

 

His sobbing finally ceased and he heard the speakers words. 

 

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.” 

 

“Bucky,” he sobbed. 

 

“It’s okay, Steve, I’m here.” 

 

The rage that had festered over two long months seemed to vanish and Steve appreciated Bucky in that moment. 

 

“Take me away from here, please,” he pleaded softly.  

 

“Sure, Steve. Come on.” Bucky leads him to his car where Steve promptly passed out from emotional strain. 

 

The next thing Steve knew, he woke up, once again, in a big bed, an arm around his waist and a warm chest against his back. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. Update soon, hopefully.


	12. Almost Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Readers! He's the next chapter! (Really sorry about this chapter.) So, **Warnings: Bucky is really _really_ possessive in this chapter. He's holding Steve against his will. Some of the things that Bucky might do can be seen as abusive(sorry!), but I did tag this story with Dark!Bucky, so...**
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is short. :( Hope you enjoy it, though! :)

It took no less than five seconds after waking up, that Steve felt the previously extinguished fire light up again. Or, well- more like burst like a grenade. He woke up feeling nothing strong, just the neutral sadness and lingering memory of what had happened in the early morning. Then, without any warning, he could feel anger soar through his body; he was high almost as if he had concentrated anger shot up into his body like a desperate drug addict. His body had begun to shake and he was still trying to adjust his eyes to the morning light. He shifted ever so slightly away from the body behind him and when the arm at his waist tightened… The rage in his veins was boiling now, it was hot and ready to be cooled down. 

 

He grabbed the arm and threw it away from him. He sat up, jumping off the bed, taking delight at the sight of a clearly unamused Bucky blinking his eyes groggily. “WHAT THE FUCK?” he bellowed right next to Bucky’s ear. 

 

Bucky’s flinch was big; he moved his whole body away from Steve, which almost resulted in him falling off the bed. Steve was slightly disappointed that he didn’t. 

 

“Jesus, Steve. Why are you yelling?” Bucky asks, his voice still husky from sleep. 

 

“WHY AM I YELLING? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?” Steve laughs a humorless laugh. “I DON’T KNOW. MAYBE IT’S THE FACT THAT MY MOTHER DIED LAST NIGHT AND NOW MY EX BROUGHT MY TO HIS PLACE!” Steve's glaring at Bucky and Bucky thinks if looks could kill, he’d been dead minutes ago. 

 

“I’m sorry, Steve. I thought you shouldn’t be alone. So, when I heard about your mom, I had to see you. Make sure you were all right…” Bucky trails off. 

 

Steve opens his mouth, ready to start yelling some more, but he stops, thinking about what Bucky just said. It didn’t make sense… 

 

Steve takes a deep breath. He suddenly feels cold. The boiling rage left him and in his place was startling disbelief and a slight hint of fear. 

 

“How’d you know my mom died? I didn’t tell anyone but Hospice and my Uncle,” Steve whispers dangerously. 

 

Bucky looks like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “I- you- I’m- I heard-” 

 

If it was possible, Steve thinks, he felt his rage grow hotter than before. “WERE YOU FUCKING STALKING ME?” 

 

Bucky looks abashed as he says, “What? No- absolutely not- I wouldn’t-” The stuttering gives it all away. 

 

“YOU ARE! FIRST YOU GET POSSESSIVE AND WON’T LET ME GO HOME AND NOW YOU’RE STALKING ME. YOU’RE A PSYCHOPATH, BUCKY.” 

 

Bucky starts to look agitated. “You don’t understand, Steve,” he says quietly. “You’re the best thing that's happened to me, Steve and I couldn’t let anyone take away my-” 

 

“I’M NOT YOURS TO HAVE, BUCKY!” 

 

With that, Steve runs around the bed and burst out of the bedroom, heading straight for the elevator. It’s not until he reaches the elevator doors, his fingers brushing the down button, that strong arms wrap around his waist and force his body back into another body. 

 

Steve starts swinging his arms, hoping to hit Bucky straight in the face, but Bucky grabs his arms and pins them to his chest. With Bucky at his back and his arms in a tight grip, he is utterly useless and at Bucky’s command. 

 

“Steve,” Bucky practically whines into his neck. “You can’t go. You can’t. I won’t let you go back to that house, certainly not if your Uncle is around.” 

 

“I can get by on my own, Bucky. I don’t need your  _ protection _ ,” he sneers the last word. 

 

“Well, you’re gonna get it. Whether you like it or not,” Bucky says angrily. “You’re free to go anywhere in the building, but you try to leave… Just do me a favor, Steve. Don’t leave the building.” With that, Bucky releases his arms roughly and stalks off. 

 

With Bucky out of sight, he turns and presses the button on the elevator. 

 

_ Bucky won’t hurt me, _ he decides.  _ I’m not staying here. _

 

Feeling defiant, feeling confident, he presses the button to the lobby. The elevator ride isn’t long and before he knows it, the doors open and he is facing the lobby, a vast room with marble floors. The lobby itself probably cost at least a million dollars… 

 

He glances around and sees nobody in sight. He takes a deep breath and begins walking towards the door. Nothing has happened. He is ten feet from the door. 

 

Nine. 

 

Eight. 

 

Seven. 

 

Six. 

 

Five. 

 

Four. 

 

Three. 

 

Two. 

 

One. 

 

He puts his hand on the door handle, almost sighing in relief, ready to push the door open and leave when a loud noise happens to his left. The noise causes a sharp pain to blossom in his temple and the next thing knows, he feels weightless and just before the world fades to black, Steve finally realizes he wasn’t wearing shoes. 

 

\---

 

When Steve comes to the next morning, he doesn’t have enough left in him to be angry or scared. He’s left lying in the bed in a room he has yet to see before, finally allowing himself to grieve. 

 

His mother is gone and not only is that hard enough to deal with, but Bucky has practically kidnapped him and is holding him hostage in the One57. Steve isn’t sure how this even happened but he knows one thing; Bucky wouldn’t hurt him. He might be possessive and kidnapped him, but he’d never hurt Steve. He’s positive about that. That thought brings a tiny sliver of light to the complete darkness he sees everywhere. 

 

He thinks.  _ How do I get out? _ he asks himself.  _ Bucky’s worth a lot of money. He wouldn’t trust me not to leave. That evident enough. He’ll have guards. _

 

He continues to brood in the dark room, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. He thinks of ways to leave and thinks about his mother. He thinks about work if he’s allowed to go and he thinks about what his Uncle will do if Steve goes missing. 

 

He closes his eyes and wills the tears not to come. They come anyway. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, comments give me life. :)


	13. Worriment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I have edited this chapter and from here on so it is in chronological order now.  
> (Edited on April 13, 2018.)

Sam sat at his desk, chewing his thumbnail deep in thought. Kamala and her friends seemed really nervous over this Barnes person when they stopped by the precinct nearly two weeks ago. Their friend, Steve, as they described him, could get by on his own. They pleaded that Sam should help them, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing illegal has happened. If there comes a time when Steve and this Barnes character do something illegal, Sam will go to work. 

 

It didn’t help the uneasy feeling that had been surrounding him since the whole ordeal. It’s not like he could arrest someone for being creepy, as that’s what Kamala and her friends were hoping he’d do. 

 

He leaned back in his chair. Once again the day was boring, filing paperwork, a day at the desk. He hated desk days. He sighed and glanced at the small pile of paperwork sitting on the corner of his desk. Reaching up and rubbing his face with both hands, he moved and grabbed the pile. 

 

He was halfway through the first piece of paper when he realized that almost fifteen minutes had gone by. His mind kept wandering, trying to piece together why Barnes and Romanoff seemed familiar. 

 

Curiosity took over and with a huff, he shoved the paperwork to the side and pulled up the computer. Rapidly, he typed in the names into the database. It took mere seconds for the database to pull up everything on a Barnes and a Romanoff. 

 

And suddenly, he knew why they seemed so familiar. 

 

\---

 

It was the late afternoon when America walked into Le Cafe du Cafe. She didn’t have a shift yesterday and it had almost been a week since the last time she saw Steve. 

 

The door jingled as she walked in and the smell of coffee hit her nose. She smiled brightly.  The cafe, even though it was her job, was her favorite place. 

 

Walking behind the counter and into the back room, she put her things down and took out her small, black waist apron. 

 

She walked back out to the counter and noticed Amadeus wiping down a table near the window. She frowned. 

 

When he finished and walked back to the counter, America asked, “Amadeus, why are you here? I thought Steve was in?” 

 

“Ya, it’s Steve shift, but he never showed up this morning. No call or anything. The Bos Lady had to fill in for him until I could come in,” he said irritation evident in his voice. 

 

She gaped at him. “But Steve has never done anything like that before!” 

 

“Well,” he paused, a thoughtful look on his face. “Isn’t his mom sick or something? Maybe something happened?” he suggested before walking away,  oblivious to the look of horror that crossed America’s face. 

 

Pulling out her phone, she opened a new message to Steve.

 

**America:** Hey Steve! You didn’t come into work 2day just making sure youre okay 

 

After a few minutes with no response, she sighed, put her phone away and went to work. 

 

Later, a few hours before closing, she pulled out her phone again, hoping to see a new message notification but she found none. Frowning again, she unlocked her phone and sent a few more messages to Steve.

**America:** Steve youre worrying me 

 

**America:** Its not like you to miss a day and not tell anyone 

 

**America:** pls answer me Steve

 

\---

 

Sam paled as he read the computer. He needed to call Kamala  _ right now. _

 

Pulling out his phone, he quickly dialed her number, put the phone to his ear, grabbed his jacket and keys and practically ran for the door. 

 

He could hear the phone ringing and by the time he made it to his car, Kamala had answered. 

 

“Sam!” she said loudly. “What’s up?” 

 

“Where are you?” He completely ignored the greeting. This was too urgent. 

 

“Uh, I’m at home, why?” she sounded curious and maybe, a tiny bit scared. 

 

“Call your friends right now, get them to your house ASAP. I’m coming over right now.” 

 

And before she could answer, he hung up the phone and sped out of the parking lot. 

 

\--- 

 

One hour before the Cafe was too close, America had had enough and went to see Maria. Knocking on the closed office door, she turned the knob and entered after hearing Maria yell “Enter!” 

 

Stepping in, she closed the door behind her and walked up to Maria who was sitting behind her desk. 

 

“How can I help you America?” 

 

“I hadn’t heard from Steve all day. It’s just not like him and I’m worried. Amadeus told me he didn’t call in today and you had to cover for him until Amadeus could show up.” 

 

“Ya, it was about a half hour after his shift that I went out there ‘til Amadeus could show up. Haven’t done that in a while. But you shouldn’t be too worried. Got a phone call about forty-five minutes ago from a boyfriend or something. Steve’s mom passed this morning. Said he didn’t know if Steve would be up to working for a while. He has some time off. He’ll be fine.”

 

“Who did you say called again?” 

 

Maria looked thoughtful for a moment. “Some boyfriend, I think. Said his name was James, or Jack or something like that. Sounded pretty concerned too. I’m sure Steve’s in the best of hands.” 

 

Maria glanced at the clock. “You still have an hour left to work,” she said. It was a clear dismissal. 

 

America smiled and left the office. 

 

\---

 

America walked out of out the cafe, slipping her backpack on as she went. She had been walking for about five minutes when her phone rang. Instantly, she knew who it was because of the ringtone. 

 

Without even glancing at the caller ID she answered the call. 

 

“Hi, Kamala.” 

 

“Come to my house right now.” 

 

America stopped walking. “Is everything alright?” she asked worriedly. 

 

“Yes, No- I don’t know! Sam just called and it sounded urgent! Get over here as fast as you can.” 

 

America’s eyes widened. “Okay, okay. I can be there in fifteen.” 

 

“ ‘Kay, see you then.” She hung up. 

 

\--- 

 

Walking into Kamala’s house, she found Amadeus, Peter, and Kamala sitting on the couch with Sam in an armchair across from them. 

 

“What’s going-” she was cut off. 

 

“Sit down,” Sam said. 

 

She sat down silently.It took a few moments, but eventually, Sam spoke. 

 

“Tell me what you know about this Barnes and Romanoff.” 

 

So they told him everything they knew about them. 

 

They knew that they were adopted siblings, hence the last name. They ran a business that was owned by Barnes and had something to do with engineering. Romanoff had some Russian descent. They both could speak fluent Russian as they’d heard them on multiple occasions do it.  They looked nothing alike but acted pretty similar. Romanoff liked black coffee and Barnes black coffee with a muffin. They usually ordered the same thing. While they had never been downright rude, they always glared and never thanked them or gave tips, which instantly made them disliked. In short, they scared the living shit out of all the Cafe workings, bar Steve. 

 

Sam took the information in stride and when they finished, he looked back at them seriously. 

 

“I think… you might have been right,” he said slowly. 

 

They all blinked, shocked at what they heard. 

 

“What?” Peter asked. 

 

“I looked their names up in the database. They seemed familiar somehow and they’re there. They’ve definitely done something and I think…” he trailed off. 

 

“Think what? I mean it can’t be that bad, right guys?” he looked at the other teenagers, hoping for an agreement from at least one of them. “I mean it’s not like they’re involved with a mob or murder or anything.” They all chuckled. 

 

“You’re right.” He broke them of their chuckles. “I don’t  _ think _ they're  _ involved  _ with the mob,” he paused, before speaking the words that chilled them to their bones. “They  _ are _ the mob.”

 

The silence was defending, only broken by the sharp intakes of breath, the snapping of mouths closing and the thundering of wild heartbeats. 

 

Kamala, Amadeus, Peter, and America stared at Sam with wide eyes. 

 

“ _ What? _ ” Peter whispered, a small tremor in his voice.  

 

The question went unanswered and the silence continued on until a loud, hysterical laugh broke it. 

 

“Ha ha, what, that- that can’t be!” Amadeus said loudly. “We were just playing around because they gave us a weird vibe, they acted weird, I mean- they can’t really be  _ the _ mob… can they?” he asked suddenly unsure of the answer. 

 

Sam sighed. “They are. They’re rich, too. Barnes has inside cobs, that’s why he hasn’t been nailed. We’ve never  _ caught _ him doing anything, there’s no proof to arrest him. They’re good at what they do,” Sam finished lamely. 

 

“Oh gosh,” America clapped a hand over her mouth. “Steve and Barnes, they’re like best friends.” 

 

Kamala’s eyes widened in horror as she was struck by a certain thought. “Guys, Steve’s mom passed away this morning! I totally forgot to tell you.” 

 

Grief passed over all their faces and momentarily, they all forgot about Steve’s friendship with Barnes. 

 

“We should go check on him. See if he’s alright,” offered Peter. They all nodded their heads in agreement. They all knew that Steve hadn’t been to work today. Peter wondered if he was going to be alright. 

 

“Come on,” Sam said. “I’ll give you a ride.” 

 

\--- 

 

After a nearly silent ride, which was only interrupted by the radio, whose volume was down on low and ten minutes later, Sam pulled in to Steve’s driveway. “Here you go.” 

 

The four friends climbed out of the car and walked to the front door. America, who was in the front, knocked on the red door. A few minutes passed by with no answer, she knocked again.

 

“Where is he?” Amadeus said exasperatedly. He began to move from the stoop over to the window that was nestled by the door. The shades were drawn but it didn’t stop him from cupping his hands around his eyes and trying to look inside. 

 

America turned around to glare at him. If glares could kill, Amadeus would be six feet under. 

 

“Stop being so inconsiderate, Amadeus. His mom just passed.” She suddenly looked incredibly worried. “I don’t know… ” she muttered. She moved her hand slowly towards the doorknob and after a minute of internal debate, she put her hand on the doorknob, turned it and found it unlocked. 

 

Stepping inside, they yelled for Steve only to receive no answer. The house was unnaturally silent. 

 

“Let’s look around,” said Kamala. They split up and searched all the rooms. Peter and Amadeus stayed on the ground floor. They walked from the main hallway into the living room that connected to the kitchen. It looked deserted and everything was still and quiet. Kamala and America found a similar situation upstairs. 

 

Eventually, everyone met back in the living room, faces grim. 

 

“He’s not here.” 

 

“Where would he be?” 

 

“Do you think he’s okay?” 

 

“Well, he’s probably just grieving somewhere. We should go,” Peter said quietly. They nodded.

 

Walking out of the house, they climbed back into Sam’s cop car. Sam, sensing a grim mood, stayed silent and waiting for them to speak. He didn’t have to wait long, soon America said, “Sam, can you take us home, please?” 

 

\---

 

It had been two days since anyone had seen Steve. Kamala and America visited Steve’s house every day but they had yet to find him. 

 

Getting more worried by the day, they kept searching for where he might be. It was late that evening when Kamala thought of something. 

 

“Doesn’t he have an uncle or something?” asked Kamala. It was commonly known that Steve didn’t have any siblings and he only had his mom since his Dad had died when he was a young boy. Steve rarely mentioned any other family, but Kamala remembered a conversation she had with Steve one day earlier in his job at the cafe. 

 

_ Kamala was wiping down a table near the door when Steve walked out from the back room with his things and a jacket on. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look sad either. If anything, his face was blank, nearly emotionless.  _

 

_ Looking at the clock, she saw that Steve had almost two hours left of his shift. He had only been working at the cafe for about a month, but in all that time he had never left his shifts early.  _

 

_ Curious, and slightly confused, she asked, “Where are you going?”  _

 

_ Steve looked slightly startled for a minute as if he didn’t expect anyone to ask.  _

 

_ “Oh, my uncle called. I have to leave. My mom has an appointment that I have to be at,” he said.  _

 

_ Before she could ask anything more, he smiled at her and walked out the door, bell chiming as he did. _

 

“Ya, an Uncle. Alex, I think. He’s only ever mentioned him in passing, though,” America’s voice broke her from her thoughts. 

 

“Well, they must be friends on Facebook, right?” 

 

After a quick trip on Facebook, they discovered a man named Alexander Pierce, who was the only person who fit the bill. 

 

His Facebook listed his work number to a company, so they decided to give him a call. 

 

The phone rang and soon a woman answered the phone. 

 

“Mr. Pierce’s office, how may I help you?” 

 

“Uh, hi. Is Mr. Pierce in? We’d like to talk to him about his nephew.” 

 

“Hold please.” The phone then made a small click noise before horrible elevator music begins to play. They waited for about five minutes before the music shut off and the phone made another clicking noise and a voice spoke. 

 

“Hi, this is Alexander Pierce, you wanted to talk about my nephew?” A warm, old voice asked. From the pictures they had seen online, they hadn’t expected Mr. Pierce to sound as nice as he did. He had a firm, serious look to him. 

 

“Yes, hello, sir. My name is Kamala and with me is America. We’re both friends of Steve’s and we’ve been really worried about him. Our boss told us about his mom and we give our condolences, sir. We haven’t seen him in days and he hasn’t answered our calls.” 

 

“Thank you. It’s alright, he’s fine. Just mourning. I’m sure he’ll be back to work soon. You really shan’t worry.”

 

“Oh, okay,” Kamala said slightly dejected. “Thank you, sir. And, if you don’t mind, can you give him a message-”

 

“I will,” he cut her off before hanging up the phone. 

 

Kamala and America shared a glance, silently commenting on the sudden rudeness. 

 

On the other end of the line, Alexander Pierce nearly slammed the phone down on the receiver. 

 

He hadn’t seen that stupid boy for  _ days _ and now his friends were calling him. When he got his hands on that pest… it wouldn’t be pretty. 

 

He had to be found.  

 

\---

 

The next morning when Steve wakes up, he doesn’t have the strength to get up. So he continues to lay in bed. 

 

Steve stares at the ceiling, fighting the boredom he feels starting to drift in. He tries desperately to keep his mind empty. 

 

So he doesn’t think at all; he ignores all the thoughts about his mom, about Bucky and how he kidnapped him, all the thoughts about his friends and his uncle. He doesn’t think about work, or her funeral, or what will happen to him… 

 

He just continues to lie there on the bed. 

 

Eventually, sleep drifts in and he falls asleep again. 

 

\---

 

It has been almost three days and Bucky has yet to see Steve after his attempt at escaping. Really though, Steve should have known Bucky wouldn’t have taken any chances. It was kind of stupid of Steve really. 

 

His chef just left after telling him some upsetting news. The chef had been sending his worker to bring a meal three times a day to Steve’s rooms. For the last few days, Steve had refused to even open the door. He wasn’t eating at all. 

 

_ I should go check on him, _ he thinks,  _ it has been a while. He’s probably still mad… He’ll come out of it eventually, _ he reasons with himself. 

 

Then after a few minutes, he changes his mind.  _ I’ll go check on him. _

 

Standing up and moving away from his desk, he opens his office door and moves down the hallway towards Steve’s room. 

 

He stops before the door, his hand raised as if ready to knock but frozen a few inches above the door. 

 

_ What if he is still mad at me? _ he thinks momentarily before shaking his head and lowers his hand to the door. 

 

He knocks gently then opens the door and flicking on the light. 

 

“Steve,” Bucky calls out. 

 

There’s a small lump on the bed, not moving and if Bucky hadn’t turned the light on, it would have been nearly impossible to see the small movements that indicated breathing. 

 

Bucky quietly walks over to the bed. 

 

“Steve.” 

 

No response. A few minutes later, Bucky tries again. 

 

“Steve,” he says a little bit louder. 

 

Once again, no response. 

 

“Steve,” he says forcefully, hoping to get a reaction. 

 

There is no reaction, he is once again ignored. 

 

Frustrated, Bucky forces himself to calm down. “Fine,” he says through gritted teeth. 

 

Bucky turns on his heel and slams the door. 

 

“Be stubborn then,” he whispers to an empty hallway. 

 

\---

 

Steve jolts awake to a small knock at the door. He hears the doorknob being turned and the door being opened before the light from the hallway spills across the bed.  

 

“Steve,” he hears his name whispered. 

 

It’s Bucky’s voice. 

 

He closes his eyes. 

 

“Steve.” His name is said louder this time. 

 

He continues to ignore him. Bucky isn’t going to win that easy. 

 

“Steve,” Bucky says in a voice that would have made Steve flinch if he hadn’t been expecting it. He continues to ignore. He doesn’t want to talk to Bucky. 

 

Suddenly the door slams shut and he’s alone again. 

 

\---

 

Bucky stalks back into his office, slamming the door loudly much to his satisfaction. 

 

He slumps down in his chair, bringing his hand to his face. 

 

He sighs. 

 

_ How can I get Steve to see? _

 

He needs Steve to see his way. He needs Steve to understand. He can’t lose Steve. He won't lose Steve. 

 

_ If only he understood… _ he thinks, dreaming off imagining Steve at his side. 

 

He imagines a night out with Steve. The perfect night out. Bucky thinks about Steve doing his job… getting information, intimidating people…  _ killing _ people… 

 

He suppresses a shiver. 

 

_ I guess I'll have to teach him… _ he thinks before he lets out an insane cackle. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So, like I said earlier, I'm having serious writer's block and I want to know how you think the rest of the story should go... Should I make a happy ending or a sad ending? I'd like ideas on how Steve could discover it's a mob. Any ideas or anything you'd like to see happen, I'd love to hear about it! Thanks, everyone! :) ******


	14. Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone. Well, I haven't updated in _forever_. Sorry. Anyway, here's chapter fourteen! I'm moving this along kinda faster than I had anticipated, but whatever. No Warnings. 
> 
> Anyways... Hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> (Edited on April 13, 2018.)

Alexander was mad. Not his usual anger over his incompetent employees, no, he was  _ angry _ and that anger was borderline rage. 

 

It had been a week and he had yet to find his nephew. He had sent some low pay employees to try and find the boy, but they had all come up blank. 

 

Nearly shaking from his anger, he took a few deep, calming breaths before picking up the phone on his desk and calling his secretary. 

 

“Yes, sir?” she asked politely. 

 

“Get Rumlow in here now,” he said rudely before slamming the phone down. 

 

It was only four minutes later that a tall, handsome, brown-haired man walked into his office. 

 

“Mr. Pierce,” he said politely. 

 

“Rumlow. My nephew is missing. I haven't seen him in a week. Find. Him. Now,” Alexander said before dismissing him. 

 

Knowing that Rumlow would find that pest, Alexander began to calm down. 

 

When Rumlow reached the door, Pierce suddenly called out to him again. “Oh and Rumlow. Be gentle. We don’t want him into much pain, now do we?” 

 

Rumlow smirked before walking out and closing the door. 

 

\--- 

 

The next day Rumlow walked into the office annoyed as hell. 

 

Pierce was sitting behind his desk, and by the looks of it, was working on paperwork. 

 

He moved up to the desk and stood patiently with his hands behind his back while Mr. Pierce finished up his work. 

 

It wasn’t long after that Pierce put his pen down, leaned back in his hair, crossed his fingers and looked up at Rumlow. 

 

He dipped his head respectively. 

 

“Sir,” he started. “I can’t find the boy.” 

 

When only silence reached his ears, he dared to look up. Pierce’s face was bright red and the perfect picture of rage. 

 

“What was that?” he whispered. 

 

Rumlow swallowed before answering. “His phone is off, he hasn’t been on any social media, or the internet as far as I can tell. I’ve been searching bus stops, train stations, and other transportation, but his debit card hasn’t come up on anything. He either has been using cash or he’s hiding out somewhere-” He didn’t get to finish though as Pierce’s hand slammed down onto his desk. 

 

“Keep searching, Rumlow.  _ Don’t  _ fail me again. Dismissed.” 

 

Rumlow nodded then left the office. He was going to find that boy… and he’d use any method to find him. 

 

\---

 

“Please, Sam. We’re all worried about him. No one has heard from him in seven days, that’s not like Steve. Can’t you just call for us?” Kamalah asked desperately. 

 

“You said his Uncle said that he was fine.” 

 

“Well, he did, but we’re still worried,” She said and started to widen her eyes in, what she hoped looked like puppy-dog eyes. 

 

“Fine,” Sam said with a sigh. 

 

Kamala suddenly brighten and smiled, “Thanks, Sam!” 

 

“Ya ya ya,” he grumbled. 

 

Picking up the phone, he dialed the number that Kamala had written down. After the phone connected, the secretary directed him to Pierce’s line. 

 

He jumped slightly when the phone clicked. “Hello, Alexander Pierce.” 

 

“Hello, Mr. Pierce. My name is Sam Wilson and I’m here with Kamala, she’s a friend of Steve’s who you’ve already talked to, I believe?” 

 

“Yes, yes. I remember that name.” 

 

“Good, well, she and her friends have been really worried about Steve lately. Is there any way for them to talk to him, even if it’s for a moment?”  

 

Silence was his only answer. A moment later it was broken by a heavy, deep sigh. 

 

“Look, Mr. Wilson. A few days ago when I talked with Ms. Kamala, Steve was here and fine. But, the other day, he told me he would be going out for a few hours and I haven’t seen him since.” 

 

Taken aback by the news, Sam asked, “Well, have you reported him as a missing person?” 

 

“No, no. I just figured he needed some time alone. His mother, who he loved dearly, just passed,” his voice was sympathetic. 

 

Sam sighed. “Okay, well, I recommend if he’s not back by tomorrow to report him as missing.” 

 

“I will do that. Thank you, Mr. Wilson. Have a good day.” 

 

Before Sam could even try to talk some more, he heard the telltale click and the phone call was ended. 

 

_ What kind of Uncle doesn’t report his nephew, who he hasn’t seen in days, as a missing person? _ Sam wondered. 

 

Back at Pierce's office, Alexander was glaring out the window. 

 

He needed to find that brat and soon. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. Comment and tell me what you thought! Criticism is always welcome, just keep it nice, please!!! I happen to have a week off for Thanksgiving (which I think is really stupid), so I'll try to get another chapter or two up, but no promises! :)


	15. Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! :) So, if the first few chapters seem familiar to you, it's because it used to be at the beginning of chapter eleven until I decided that it fit better here then it did there, so I moved it!
> 
>  **Also, since it's been a while since that chapter, the date at the beginning of this is the date I made Steve's mom die on, just a reminder.**
> 
> Anyway, no warnings that I can think of, so Enjoy! :)
> 
> (Edited on April 13. 2018.)

 

It had been one week since his mother passed and he had yet to see Bucky in the four days since he last saw him. Food still showed up outside his door, so he didn’t have to worry about starving. 

 

He had yet to leave his room for anything other than the bathroom. Most days were spent with the lights off, shades closed and his head stuck under the blankets. He slept mostly and when he was awake he’d ponder, “what now?” 

 

Now that his mom was gone, her house was his. He’d have to get a few more jobs to pay for it, but it’d be worth it if it meant keeping the house that held so many memories for him. 

 

\--- 

 

Steve was fourteen when he discovered he was gay. At first, he was utterly terrified. Even though people of the same sex could marry in New York, there were still tons of people who hated them and damned them to hell.  

 

He had never asked his mother what she had thought of it before. Sarah was a sweet, caring woman, but she was raised by strict Christian parents who died before Steve was born. 

 

Sighing nervously, he sat on the couch to wait until his mom returned from work. He sat fidgeting on the couch, nervously glancing at the door every few minutes. His mind kept pulling out scenarios; his mom’s face filled with disgust, his mom trying to “fix” him, his mom kicking him out, or sending him to his uncle's... He shuddered. 

 

_ She wouldn’t do that, _ he thought. 

 

The clock said she was to be home any second, and it was perfect timing because he could hear a key being put into the lock and the door being opened. 

 

“Steve,” she yelled with her back to Steve as she shut and relocked the door. “I’m home-” she cut off with a tiny yelp as she turned around to find him on the couch. “Oh, Steve, sweety, you startled me.” 

 

She gave a tiny, embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry, ma,” he muttered. 

 

“Well, I’m gonna get supper going. Any suggestions? I was thinking mac’n’cheese?” 

 

“Uh, ma?” his voice cracked. “Can I- can I talk to you?” he stuttered. 

 

“Sure Steve,” she said looking slightly worried. She sat down to Steve and their legs brushed. She put a hand on his thigh, “Steve, is everything alright?” she asked in a motherly tone. 

 

“I- uh, I’m, I kinda-” he sighed deeply. 

 

“Steve, you can tell me.” 

 

“Ikindalikeboys,” he said quickly while keeping his eyes firmly on his lap. 

 

Silence. 

 

He dared a glance at her, expecting the worse. 

 

She didn’t look mad or disgusted like he thought she would. She just had an understanding look on her face. 

 

“Well,” she said quietly. “Who’s the lucky man?” 

 

“You’re not mad?” he questioned quietly, nervously. 

 

“Of course not, Steve. Love is love. I have nothing to be mad about. But you didn’t answer my question: Who is the lucky man?” 

 

\---

 

He had always loved to draw. As a kid, he’d always have crayons or markers and a coloring book with him. 

 

Since he was a sickly child, and he couldn’t play outside with the other kids, he found other ways to spend his time by entertaining himself. He found drawing and coloring. 

 

When he was five and was sent to kindergarten, with warning from his doctor to not exert himself too much during recess, he’d sit outside with a coloring book. It was during one of these days that some kids came up to him. 

 

“Why don’t you play?” One of them asked. 

 

“Because I can’t,” Steve replied simply. 

 

The kids didn’t take his answer very well; they insulted his coloring, tell him he was weird and too small. 

 

When he got home, he had tears in his eyes and the next day he refused to bring his book to school. 

 

Over the next few years, Sarah would watch her son doing what he loved at home, but never did his books leave the house. 

 

One year, when Steve was eight and finished with his second year of school, Sarah gave him a leather-bound sketch journal for his birthday. 

 

“Steve,” she spoke gently. “Why are you ashamed of your gift?” She paused and when Steve remained silent, she spoke again. “We’re spending the day at Coney. I want you to draw me something. Go get dressed,” she smiled.

 

\--- 

 

More memories flew by; the day he spent with his ma at Coney. The day he brought home a stray. The day he broke his fist punching a bully. The time he almost got suspended from school. The day he brought his first boyfriend home. The day he was hired at the Cafe. 

 

The day she was diagnosed. The day he met his uncle. The time when she got too sick. The first punch. 

 

Before he knew it, Steve was jolted from his memories when he felt wetness on his cheeks; he was crying. He hastily wiped his face and then sighed when he realized he had to go to the bathroom. Groaning, Steve sat up, body stiff. He stood but had to stop momentarily, to gain his footing and get rid of the black spots in his vision.  

 

Moving slowly to the door, he paused again and put his ear to the door, listening for anyone. When he heard nothing, he opened the door and peeked his head out. Looking left, then looking right, he found the corridor deserted so he opened the door fully and stepped outside.  

 

The bathroom was at the end of the corridor, so as quietly as he could, he padded now the corridor to the bathroom. Just as his hand was about to touch the knob, he heard raised voices coming from Bucky’s office. 

 

Curiosity got the better of him. Bathroom forgotten, he moved to the office door. 

 

\--- 

 

“No, Natasha!” Bucky bellowed. “He is  _ mine _ ,” he growled. 

 

She had suggested “taking care” of Steve for him.  _ We don’t need him, _ she had said.  _ He’s only a risk. _

 

“Barnes,” she growled back with more ferocity. “Can’t you see? He’s making you  _ soft _ !” 

 

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Wanna say that again, Romanoff?”  

 

Where most people would back down, and stammer out an apology, Natasha Romanoff stood straighter and in the coldest, most vicious voice she had, she said, “I’m starting to question how  _ you _ became Mob Boss.”

 

A gasp drew them from their staring match. They looked towards the door and found Steve standing there. 

 

\--- 

 

Eyes wide and terror struck, Steve did the only sensible thing his mind thought of; he ran. 

 

...Only to have a body tackle him to the ground. His head hit the floor painfully and he fell unconscious. 

 

\--- 

 

When he came around, the first thing he realized was that his head was killing him. The next thing he realized was that he was bound to a chair, ropes tight around his small frame. 

 

With blurry vision, he looked around in confusion. 

 

_ Where am I? _ he thought before the memories flooded back to him. 

 

Bucky was a Mob Boss. 

 

He started to panic and began to struggle against the bonds. 

 

“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice said. He went cold when he recognized the voice. It was Bucky. 

 

He stopped struggling as Bucky came into his line of view. In his hand, he held a blade. 

 

Terror filled him. 

 

Bucky pulled a chair and sat right in front of Steve. Carefully, Bucky dragged the blade down Steve’s thigh. Not pressing hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave scratches and bruising. 

 

Steve tilted his head back and closed his eyes. 

 

“Steve,” his name was whispered. 

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled his head down and opened his eyes to stare into Buckys. 

 

“I’ll give you a choice,” Bucky began, eyes cold. “I’ll kill you here, right now, and it’ll all be over.” He pulled the blade higher up Steve’s thigh. 

 

“What’s the other choice?” Steve gasped. 

 

“You can join me.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd you like? Let me know!!


	16. One Year Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Everyone! So, if your curious, I went back through this fic and fixed the chronology of it. Before it was terribly of out of chronology but I have spent all night fixing that because I did not like it. I have not taken anything out, it is all still there but in chronological order now. This is the new chapter. Hope you like! :)

One Year Later

 

It was October and the chill was setting in, persistent, inevitable. This was all Steve could think about as he sat in his new room looking out the window, and down at central park below.

 

The leaves were turning and New York looked beautiful, breathtaking, from where he sat. He wanted nothing more than to go outside and run around. He hadn’t seen fall leaves in over a year.

 

He watched the little ant sized people scurrying to and from, the cars moving, carrying people from one place to another.

 

He watched the sun slowly set, and if it had been anywhere but New York, the city that never sleeps, he would have been plunged into complete darkness.  

 

He moved from his crouched position in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and stood. He stretched, pushing his arms and fingers as high as they could go and once he felt a satisfying pop in his back, he sighed deeply and dropped his arms.

 

Steve walked over to one of his bookshelves across from the windows and pulled down a book at random. He sluggishly walked over to the couch and once he was comfortable, opened to book to his bookmark.

 

Recently he had started to read the Hannibal Lecter series by Thomas Harris. It was the cover of the first book, Red Dragon, that had hooked him, or more specifically, the creature on the cover. He’d recognized it; it was the dragon from the painting The Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun by William Blake. It was kept right there in New York, at the Brooklyn Museum.

 

As he began to read though, he began enthralled by the world and characters that Harris crafted. Particularly, Hannibal Lecter. He found Hannibal fascinating.

 

He was captivated by Hannibal the Cannibal Lecter. He had so many questions that were unanswered by the time he had finished Red Dragon.

 

Lately, Steve had found that his mind would wander to the mystery that was Hannibal Lecter.

 

He was on the thirty-eighth page of The Silence of the Lambs, slightly annoyed at the naive and inexperienced Agent Clarice Starling when there was a knock at the door that interrupted him.

 

Sighing deeply, he placed his bookmark in the book and moved to stand but stopped when Bucky walked into his room anyway.

 

Steve narrowed his eyes in irritation.

 

“Bucky, what have I told you about walking into my room?”

 

Bucky stopped walking, and scrunched his face. “To knock?” he said.

 

Steve nodded, exasperated. “And to wait for me to say ‘Come in’.”

 

Bucky had the decency to look abashed. “Sorry, Stevie, it’s important.”

 

Steve sighed. “Fine, what’s so important you need to interrupt my ‘me’ time?”

 

Bucky opened the folder in his hands, which Steve had not noticed before, and pulled out a photograph that he handed to Steve. “We found Davis.”

 

Steve studied the photograph in his hands. The man, Davis, was nearly unrecognizable.

 

Davis was a mere lacky that dealt with some of the dirty business that was too unimportant for them to deal with. He was a respectable man. That was until he went missing over two weeks ago. This led them to believe that he had abandoned them. They believed him a traitor until a note came addressed to Bucky, nine days after Davis’ disappearance. It was from Hydra and its still unidentified leader.

 

And, though respectable, Davis  was only a lackey. They made no plans to retrieve him.

 

Now, five days later, they had found the body. Well, what was left of a body, anyway.

 

Steve almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.

 

Glancing up, he say Bucky staring at him.

 

“What do you suggest we do?” Bucky asked.

 

“How you found a new replacement for Davis yet?”

 

“No, still looking.”

 

“Well, obviously, first thing first, find a new replacement,” Steve said as if it was obvious. “Next, any plans for Hydra?”

 

Hydra had been on a rampage lately. The last six lackies that they had hired ended up dead. Davis was the longest that they had kept.

 

“None yet. Natasha and I think we should let you decide what to do.”

 

Steve smiled. “Hmm, well, I better get thinking, shouldn’t I?”

 

Bucky chuckled deeply. “Yes, you should. I’ll leave you to your ‘you’ time now.” Bucky stood and leaned over Steve to press a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m so glad you decided to stay, Stevie,” Bucky said softly. He then turned around and left without another word.

 

‘So am I, Buck, so am I,’ Steve thought. He smiled as he thought back to July of last year…  

 

\---

(One year earlier)

 

_When he came around, the first thing he realized was that his head was killing him. The next thing he realized was that he was bound to a chair, ropes tight around his small frame._

_With blurry vision, he looked around in confusion._

_Where am I? he thought before the memories flooded back to him._

_Bucky was a Mob Boss._

_He started to panic and began to struggle against the bonds._

_“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice said. He went cold when he recognized the voice. It was Bucky._

_He stopped struggling as Bucky came into his line of view. In his hand, he held a blade._

_Terror filled him._

_Bucky pulled a chair and sat right in front of Steve. Carefully, Bucky dragged the blade down Steve’s thigh. Not pressing hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave scratches and bruising._

_Steve tilted his head back and closed his eyes._

_“Steve,” his name was whispered._

_Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled his head down and opened his eyes to stare into Buckys._

_“I’ll give you a choice,” Bucky began, eyes cold. “I’ll kill you here, right now, and it’ll all be over.” He pulled the blade higher up Steve’s thigh._

_“What’s the other choice?” Steve gasped._

_“You can join me.”_

 

The room was silent, Steve could hear the breathing of the others in the room. His eyes were wide with disbelief.

 

Opening his mouth, he stuttered unsure of how to answer. “W-why?”

 

Bucky’s cold facade warmed slightly. A small, ever so slightly there smirk made its way to his face as he leaned back away from Steve.

 

“I thought I’ve made it quite obvious, Steve. I want you.” Bucky was staring at him intently, and Steve began to squirm under the gaze.

 

His mids was a whirlwind of thoughts. Steve remembered watching movies and tv shows and the mob was nothing to mess around with. They kill like there's no tomorrow and always without mercy. Sometimes they even tortured people…

 

And it wasn’t like he could actually be part of the mob. He was five foot four, and ninety-five pounds soaking wet. He couldn’t stand the pressure of the mob… Could he?

 

Even if he could, what would he do? He wasn’t strong, or intimidating. He didn't know how to shoot a gun, or how to kill someone. He didn’t know how to run a company or make negotiations. Sometimes he was awkward, he didn’t know how to deal with people and he wasn’t a smooth talker like Bucky. He was only eighteen for Christ's sake! Just out of high school with no actual experience in the real world.

 

Would he be the secretary? The assistant? Would he do anything at all, or would Bucky make him his personal toy?

 

That thought scared him more than any he’d thought of that evening. He couldn’t become Bucky’s personal lap dog, he’d go insane. He wanted to do things with his life and being by Bucky’s side all the time wouldn’t help him get anywhere.

 

He looked at Bucky. He was still staring at him intently, and without a waiver in his voice he was sure would be there, he said, “Why would you want me? I’m sure I’d be of no use at all.”

 

Bucky chuckled, looking extremely amused. “That’s where your wrong, Steve,” Bucky said. “With some training, I think you’d be immensely useful to my business. Look at Natasha. She is small and petite but she has that intimation factor that you lack. People would see Natasha coming from a mile away. You, on the other hand, they’d never see you coming. You could be our perfect little spy, and no one would be none the wiser.”

 

Steve’s head was reeling with the information. A spy? Him? Surely Bucky must be joking. What did that even mean?

 

As if reading his mind, Bucky spoke again. “No, Steve, I’m not joking. Like I said, with some training, you’ll be the best."

 

Steve couldn't believe it. Training? Spy? The best? Bucky was being serious though and Steve didn't know what to do.

 

"You will join, Steve. I don't think I could kill you," Bucky said the last part softly, almost too soft, but Steve heard it.

 

Steve silently nodded his head. "Okay," he agreed.

 

Bucky smiled brightly. "Perfect, let's get you untied then."

 

Bucky moved forward with his knife and in one move, cut the ropes that held him to the chair. He was pulled up by Bucky and led from the room. He paused briefly to find his bearings. His pounding head disoriented him for a second.

 

"Come, Steve, we have much to do."

 

Steve gulped and nodded.

 

Walking from the room, he was led down a familiar hallway. He could see for a window that they passed it was still dark out.

 

They kept walking and soon turned a corner and Steve say the door to "his" room.

 

"Here, Steve. Get some rest. Don't try to run, okay. It'll be okay."

 

Steve nodded, not really sure if he wanted to run again if his pounding head was anything to go by.

 

Steve turned the doorknob and into the room. He walked to the bed and quickly lay down and soon fell into a restless sleep.

 

\---

 

When Steve woke in the morning, it was to a knock at his door.

 

Before Steve could answer, Bucky strutted in. Steve felt his anger ignite.

 

"You need to knock, Bucky," Steve said angrily.

 

"Sorry, Stevie," he said without any sincerity in his voice. Bucky obviously didn't care what Steve had said. He moved closer to the bed and once he was beside it, glanced at Steve then climbed onto it and joined Steve.

 

He lay down facing Steve, close enough that their noses were almost touching.

 

"What do you want, Bucky?" Steve said tiredly, looking directly into Bucky's eyes that were so close to his.

 

Bucky gasped in fake astonishment. "Stevie, Stevie, can't I just visit to see my favorite person ever?"

 

Steve yawned and closed his eyes. "Whatever Buck, I'm going back to bed."

 

Steve relaxed back into the bed, content to fall back asleep for a bit longer. His exhaustion addled his coherent thought process.

 

Sleep had almost claimed him when Bucky whispered his name quietly. "Stevie."

 

Steve opened his heavy eyes and look at Bucky expectantly.

 

"Yes," Steve whispered back.

 

"I'm glad your here," he said simply.

 

Unsure of how to answer, Steve nodded, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

 

\---

 

When he woke once more, Bucky was sitting on the bed beside him reading a book. The lamp by the table was giving off a low light.

 

Bucky had pulled his hair back to a low ponytail at the back of his head. He looked warm, friendly, attractive, certainly not the Mob Boss he had seen earlier.

 

No, stop it, Steve. He's kidnapped you, not letting you leave and has threatened to kill you, he isn't attractive.

 

Steve sighed inaudibly. How could he not think Bucky looked good? He was Bucky, his Buky, the nice, interesting, funny man he had met before he became his obsessed kidnapper. It was sometimes almost hard to separate the two.

 

But they weren't really separate, were they?

 

No, they weren't. They were one in the same person.

 

Steve moved to rub his eyes tiredly and then sat up.

 

He turned to Bucky and opened his mouth to ask a burning question: "Did you only talk to meet because you thought I'd be good for 'your business'?"

 

Bucky turned to him abruptly, nearly dropped his book in his haste to place the bookmark on the correct page.

 

Bucky looked almost angry, but Steve could also see the disbelief there.

 

"You really think that of me?"

 

Steve glared at him. "Well, I don't really know you, do I? You've been lying since day one, Buck."

 

Steve could tell that Bucky was taking a deep, calming breath.

 

"No, Steve, I didn't just talk to you because I thought you'd be good for my job. You interested me from day one. You didn't seem afraid of me like the other cafe workers and that intrigued me. I'm not exactly the type of guy people want to go get a hug from if you know what I mean. So when you didn't seem the tiniest bit intimated, I became curious.

 

"Then we started to talk during your lunch breaks and I began to discover what made you, you. It gained my interest.

 

"I can tell your not gonna trust me again for a while, Steve, but I promise you, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise. And no one else is gonna hurt you either. Whether you expect it or not, you are mine Steve Rogers, and that also means you have my protection."

 

Then, before Steve could even blink, Bucky was on top of him, ravaging his mouth. Steve was so shocked that it took him a few minutes to respond. Tentatively, he began to kiss back. His thought from earlier flooding back into his mind.

 

Kidnapper... My Bucky...

 

Temporarily, he let the thoughts leave his mind. As things grew more heated, Steve pushed Bucky off him.

 

"No, Bucky," he gasped breathlessly. "No."

 

"Sorry, Stevie," he said equally as breathlessly.

 

"Let’s- let’s just rest, yeah?"

 

Bucky nodded, "Yeah."

 

Bucky moved off him and lay down. Steve rolled over, turned away from him. He felt Bucky moved up behind him. He wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him back into Bucky's chest.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If at any point, I screwed up the timeline trying to fix the timeline, please tell me and I'll fix it. Otherwise, take to the comments and let me know what you think of this fic!! :D

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any Captain America writers out there in search of a beta, go check out [Cap Beta Finders](https://capbetafinders.tumblr.com). (Psst, I'm on it.) There are some really great betas over there. Also, if you're a beta, you can go over there and fill out the submission form and be on the list. It's super easy.
> 
> Check out my other works [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrgoodbar/works)
> 
> My [Tumblr](https://mrgoodbar11213.tumblr.com).
> 
> I love comments, they mean so much! :)


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